


Ray

by smitshappens



Category: MST3K, Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Clones, Developing Friendships, Gen, bonehead subculture, experiments gone wrong, no this is very much au, sibling type relationships, slice-of-life, slight AU, the moon is lousy with boneheads and I love it, this is the weirdest slice of life, weird alternaversal science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12114765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smitshappens/pseuds/smitshappens
Summary: Post episode 14, Jonah is sort of on a leave of absence at Moon 13.  As if living on the moon wasn’t strange enough, Kinga has managed to make it even weirder. Because of course she has. (Sporadic updates. Sorry about that.)





	1. I Know Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here we go. It’s not the first MST3K fic I’ve worked on, but it’s the one that begs for the most attention right now. Please forgive it. (Things are probably going to get weird in subsequent chapters, so there's your warning.)

If Jonah's thinking was right, it had been three weeks since that whole Reptilicus Metallicus Evacuatus mess. He had been rescued, given a clean bill of health, and strangest of all, had more or less received some very nice vacation time. Granted, it was on the moon, but the lunar base did have some nice amenities for a villain outpost.

But why did he feel like he was missing chunks of time? There were a couple of days that he could only remember as a blur. He racked his brain over and over, coming to the same end — Nothing. He remembered waking up one day, taking the elevator down to Moon 14 for breakfast, then waking up in his temporary bunk, groggy from what had to have been the longest nap on record.

"You were just so tired, you must have passed out," Kinga told him. She ruffled his hair; he quickly brushed it back into place. It never did look quite perfect, since he was saddled with perpetual bedhead.

"Something's not right." He slid down in his chair, his feet sticking out from the other side of the table. Even miles away in space, he was an awkwardly oversized nerd. He picked at the remains of his lunch. "I don't just fall out and then wake up somewhere else. I've never blacked out in my life, not even when they shot me into space the first time."

Kinga pulled out the chair next to Jonah's feet and took a seat. She waved at one of her henchmen, outfitted in a Moon 14 apron. He was quick to present her with a menu. "Look, Heston, it's been a…traumatic experience for you, hasn't it?" She pointed out an item to the Bonehead and returned the menu. "Maybe your brain decided to block out the worst parts."

Jonah's thick eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "I clearly remember being swallowed by a giant metal monster and sitting in its bile for what felt like a lifetime. What's worse than that?"

The Bonehead waiter returned with a chocolate milkshake and placed it in front of the redhead. Without missing a beat, she plucked the cherry off the top and nodded at her lab rat. "It's all very subjective, Heston."

Jonah straightened in his chair and rested his head on the table, groaning. "This is the weirdest type of captivity, Kinga."

She scoffed. "Captivity? Excuse you, I'm pretty sure I saved your life."

He rolled his head to the side, but never lifted it from the table. "I'd have never ended up there if you hadn't kidnapped me."

"Someone here couldn't pass up a distress call." She flicked the cherry stem at his head; it landed in his hair and he quickly shook it out. "My poor Good Samaritan. You're actually kind of cute when you're frustrated."

He sat up again, though his shoulders remained slumped. "Not helping, Kinga." Jonah stood from the table and grabbed his lunch tray to dump the remains into the garbage.

"You know, I thought you'd like the time off. You've got your own room, you can go nearly anywhere you want to — "

"Except my ship," Jonah interrupted.

"Duh, of course you can't go to your ship," Kinga snarled. "We've got a show to do and I need you handy. I can't have you traipsing off in space somewhere — You're my star player!" She finished her milkshake, then scurried to catch up to her experiment. "Can't you at least pretend you're enjoying your time off? You can't say that we haven't taken good care of you."

No, he couldn't argue that. It didn't hurt that the tyrant Kinga Forrester might have had a slight crush on him. As a result, they had at least formed a strange sort of friendship, and although she still managed to terrify him sometimes, she was making some nice strides toward understanding basic human emotions.

Well, beyond just anger at any rate.

Kinga patted at his arm. "Look, why don't you go burn off some of that pent-up energy? Clear your head." She cocked a hip sideways, crossing her arms. "All that worrying you're doing? Not healthy."

Jonah's expression was less than enthused. "What exactly are you suggesting that I do? There aren't a lot of options for someone like me." He caught her eyes as they narrowed and her fists tightened. Taking a step back, he was fast to amend his statement. "You know I like to build stuff and invent things, but I know you don't trust me enough not to make something that might — "

"Something that might get you out of here," the redhead finished curtly.

Jonah shrugged, his arms flopping to his sides. "I can't help who I am."

The small woman paced back and forth in front of him, fingers twirling at the tendrils of hair at her temples. She paused and snapped her coat back into place. "Can you promise me that you won't try it this one time?"

Ah-hah. "Can you promise me that you won't threaten me with a cattle prod this one time?"

Kinga extended a hand. "It's a deal. Shake on it."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

It wasn't as though Jonah didn't appreciate the fact that the Skeleton Crew had an original Super Nintendo in the lounge, but he simply couldn't keep his mind focused on anything. A couple of the Boneheads accused him of throwing the game; he argued that he was just tired, then excused himself from the rest of the Mario Kart runnings for the day.

As he passed by the various department doorways and signs, he couldn't help how badly his mind had started to wander. He was still stuck trying to figure out to where his lost time had disappeared. Of course Kinga wouldn't tell him and he hardly expected any of the Boneheads to give up any kind of important information. Heck, they couldn't be bothered to tell him his controller was unplugged during the entire first lap of of their initial game.

He went over his usual schedule in his head yet again, as well as Kinga's strange rules and requirements. These usually included a weekly check with a physician, and more often than not, some kind of need for a blood test.

Jonah punched the elevator button for level Moon 8 and absently rubbed over the bruise on his arm leftover from the last doctor visit.

"Wait."

He smacked at the button for Moon 13, the main hall, and waited anxiously for the cab to stop. Once the doors opened, he scrambled out, clumsily skidding across the floor. Eyes scanning the room, he located the main console for Kinga's God Monitor and made a beeline toward it. He pushed up his sleeves and began tapping away at the keyboard. A flurry of mini screens and text blocks flashed onto the monitor as his fingers flew over the buttons. Security warnings and login screens popped up and vanished a few more times, then a large purple button on the side of the console began to pulsate light.

That was exactly what he wanted. He gave it a push and the monitor gurgled at him, bubbles rising to the top.

There were Tom Servo and Crow, looking almost panicked, or as panicked as a pair of robots could appear.

"Don't deactivate us, Kinga, please!" Crow squawked, his net shivering with every movement. His eyes rolled forward and his beak hung agape. "JONAH!" He slammed his claws onto the bridge with enough force, Jonah was sure he saw him put a small dent in the console. "JONAH, YOU'RE ALIVE!"

The smaller robot's arms bounced frantically. "JONAH! JONAH! When are you coming back?!" Tom Servo was faring as well as Crow, but one of his arm springs had begun to stretch out of shape. His cherry finish looked a might dull. It could probably be fixed with a good polish.

"We thought you died!" Crow grabbed onto his smaller red brother and hugged him. "Tommy and Gypsy and I were so worried!"

The picture wiggled sideways and Crow nodded. "Cambot's been really upset, too!"

Were they…crying? The emotional playback sure made it seem like they were. That and Crow's obvious hydraulic fluid leak, which had to be what was flooding his eyes. It was a gut punch for sure. "Hey guys! I…I miss you."

The wailing got worse. Jonah waved his hands. "Guys! Guys! It's okay! I'm alive! You don't have to worry about that." The bots' sobs eased into sniffles and Crow seemed to regain his composure, staring hard at the screen. The Gizmocrat took a deep breath. "I need your help." The bots leaned in, interested. "I'm gonna need a big favor from Cambot."

His view of the SOL interior suddenly bobbed up and down — The little camera robot was nodding in agreement.

"Okay, little guy, I know you've got digital recording abilities, and since Kingachrome isn't the most stable thing right now, I'm gonna see if I can throw the security feed to you for playback," Jonah explained. "We might only have one shot, so we've gotta make it count." He tapped more keys on the console. "Crow, I'll need you to hit the red button up there once I get access. That should process it through Cambot, then when that light goes out, hit the purple one again when it starts flashing."

"Whaddya need the security stuff for?" Crow's claws hovered over the bridge console.

"Yeah, we know who's responsible for you getting eaten," Tom added.

Jonah shook his head. "It's not that, guys. I can't remember entire days and I've got a really bad feeling about things." He typed in one last string of code and waited for the red button to light up on the screen. In only a moment, it began flashing and Crow anxiously threw both claws onto it.

"WE'VE GOT ACCESS SIGN!"

Jonah had to stifle a laugh. He really did miss those guys. He peered at the monitor as the signal was invaded by Kinga's liquid technology again, the screen filled with purple bubbles. He held his breath, waiting for the picture to return.

"Annnnd back to you, Heston!" Crow's voice chimed through the violet bubbles and they began to clear, revealing an overhead camera shot of Moon 8's main hallway.

Jonah's face lit up.

"Did it work?" Tom called from behind the CCTV feed.

"It's perfect. Cambot, this is the best conversion job I think I've seen." He meant it, too. Somehow, that little robot had managed to clean up the footage during the process, making it almost as good as HD. He couldn't have been more proud.

One function key at a time, Jonah cycled through the various security camera recordings for that day until he at last located the one for Moon 14. He saw himself enter that level, pick up his breakfast from the Mesozoic Grill, then take his seat. One of the Boneheads sidled up next to him and he watched as his attention was diverted, then that same Bonehead waved a hand over Jonah's coffee.

His face scrunched in disgust. "The oldest trick in the book and I fell for it," he snarled. He scanned through the footage until he watched his head hit the table in a drugged blackout. It took three of the Skeleton Crew to haul him out of camera range. Now he just felt sick.

He began going through the feeds again, hoping to see where they had taken him and why, but a rumbling from the hallway unnerved him and he lost track of which camera was pointed where. Anxiousness took over and he kept pressing one key after another with no luck.

"What happened, Jonah?" Tom called from the Satellite. "You never said what happened!"

"I got drugged, Tom," came the grumbly reply. "I just need to find out what they did — "

A white gloved hand slammed onto the console, clearing the SOL's feed from the monitor. Jonah yelped and his eyes met those of another Bonehead. He hadn't seen this one before. Big fella.

The Bonehead peered at him angrily and took over typing on the keyboard, resetting security protocols and changing passwords.

"Hey! HEY!" Jonah shoved him aside and did his best to override his efforts. The Bonehead shoved back, nearly knocking him over. "What's the big idea, guy?"

The skeletal minion's shoulders slumped and he let go a sigh. "Security. She's got at least three layers on this thing and you're running the risk of setting off the escape alarms!"

Shocked, Jonah stumbled backward. This Bonehead sounded too familiar for his comfort. "You…you get programming?"

He was greeted with an eyeroll and the interloper continued his work until the system's security had been sewn up and the God Monitor shut down as before.

The rumbling outside the hall became louder, punctuated by voices and the tromping of boots. The new minion's head darted in the direction of the noise, then to Jonah. He seized his arm and dragged him behind the bandstand.

"What the heck are you DOING?!"

"SHH!"

"But — "

"SHHHH!!!"

The Bonehead hauled the Gizmocrat to a set of much larger sliding metal doors and pounded a fist at the console next to them. The doors creaked open — It was a freight elevator! He ran inside, pulling Jonah behind him as hard as he could, causing them both to topple onto the floor in a tangle of too-long limbs. As the doors shut, Max could be heard trying to shout orders at the minions with him in the hall.

The elevator lurched upward and Jonah finally caught his breath. He caught the New Guy staring at him through the visor of his helmet. "Thanks for that. That's not typical behavior for somebody like you, at least not in my experience so far. Sure, they'll play videogames with you, but they don't stray too far from their allegiances…" He paused when the Bonehead lowered his head and slid off his helmet.

Jonah's eyes boggled.

He was looking at the Skeleton Crew version of himself.


	2. Prime and Beta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weirdness on the moon continues, as one Jonah is suddenly found to be two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I was going to wait about posting, but I couldn’t. The ridiculousness continues. It might get a little dark here and there, sorry. Shoutout to speccygeekgirl--I borrowed the phrase “Jonah Prime” cos it fit so well. :3

"She cloned me," he gasped. "Of all the weird, low things to do, Kinga cloned me!"

The Jonah clone shook his head, smoothing back his hair.  He offered a crooked smile.  "I know your face."

Jonah curled his lip at him, snarling at the skull motif his doppelganger wore.  "You...You look like a panda."

The clone stood and offered a hand. Reluctantly, Jonah accepted and his twin pulled him to his feet.  

"My name's Ray."

"I can't believe she cloned me," the boy groused.  He leaned against the elevator wall as it ground to a halt.  "That's a bridge too far."

Ray sighed again.  It sounded too similar to Jonah's ears and he visibly cringed.  "I didn't ask to be made.  I just woke up one day and there I was."

A sudden wave of guilt hit Jonah right in the stomach.  He was quick to soften his tone.  "Um...Happy Birthday?"

The Bonehead grumbled and slid his helmet back on.  As the elevator doors opened, he looped his arm around Jonah's and pulled him out of the cab.  "C'mon. They're probably looking for you, so we might have to lay low for a little while."

Jonah trudged behind his twin, barely focused on where he was even leading him.  This was an area of the moon base he hadn't seen; everything was unfamiliar.  Unlike the other levels he had visited, this one was very nondescript -- Just one long hallway of numbered doors, much like a hotel.

The clone finally stopped at the end of the hall and took a quick look over his shoulder. Curious, Jonah repeated the action, finding nothing behind them but the expanse of the empty hallway.  Eyes front again, he watched as Ray slid a card over the doorknob and the room unlocked.  Again, the clone nabbed Jonah's arm and practically flung him into the room before slamming the door and throwing all of the locks.

A cursory glance at the room told Jonah more about his twin than he probably could have gleaned in a round of Twenty Questions: Crumpled paper littered the floor around a desk in the corner; notebooks full of equations and chicken scratches of writing were stacked haphazardly here and there.  A couple of colored pencil sketches were taped to the wall above Ray's work area.  Upon closer examination, they sent chills up Jonah's spine.

“You....drew these?”  He pointed at a drawing of a beach, a tropic paradise.

Ray tossed his helmet on the bed and shrugged out of his vest.  He raised an eyebrow at his twin.  “Yeah. I kept seeing them in my dreams, so I thought I'd feel better if I put them on paper.  That's kind of how it is with everything.”

Jonah shook his head.  “This is _home_. You drew home.”  He pulled the sketch next to it off the wall entirely.  “And you drew Mom and Dad.”  He wasn't prepared for the sudden wave of homesick emotions and he fumbled to seat himself at the desk.  His hands slid under his glasses and he had to take a few moments to attempt to calm himself down.

The sound of chair legs bouncing across carpet broke the silence. Jonah peered between his fingers to find that Ray had dragged another seat across the room and parked himself in front of his twin.  He looked curious and honestly, very remorseful.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly.  “I'm not sure how much that helps, but I really am.” His expression brightened.  “I know who they are now!”  He hopped up from his seat and pulled the beach sketch from the wall.  He took both drawings and held them toward Jonah.  “Take them with you.”  
  
Jonah uncovered his eyes, baffled.  “But they're your pictures.”  
  
“They're your memories,” Ray insisted.  “I'd feel better knowing they're with the right person.”

Jonah took the little pieces of art, sliding them into his chest pocket.  Right over the heart, because even he admitted he was a sentimental goon.  “Thanks.  Look, I'm sorry about earlier – “

“It's fine.” Ray waved a dismissive hand.  “I wasn't exactly the nicest about first impressions, but you were seriously about to get busted by Her She-vilness and I couldn't stand by and just let that happen.”

“I appreciate that.”  Jonah rubbed at his eyes, clearing the tears and finally relaxing a little. “Still seems weird.”  
  
The twin raised an eyebrow.  “Which part? The cloning or the saving your butt?”

“Some of Column A, some of Column B,” Jonah chuckled.  It really was uncanny.  Through that skeletal motif, he could see himself, sans the beard.  Ray was a lucky devil, though – No need for glasses.  “Sooo... You're not exactly like the rest of the Boneheads, are you?”

Ray shifted in his seat, then stood and paced uncomfortably.  “Ehhh...nah.  Technically, I _am_ one of them. I'm Bonehead #882.”  He drifted to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, wiping at his face.  Jonah's eyes boggled.

“It IS face paint!”

Ray shrugged. “Word is that they couldn't quite get my DNA right to fit Kinga's exact Bonehead standards, so I have to do my best to fit in.”

He was a little paler than Jonah and part of the Bonehead pigmentation seemed to be permanent, resulting in some rather unfortunate dark circles around his eyes.  Poor guy looked perpetually tired.  He finally wandered back over to the corner where Jonah sat, plopping back down in his chair.  He pulled a notebook from one of the stacks and slid it toward his twin.  “These are the other things that are almost always on my mind.  At this point, I'm not sure how much is mine and how much is yours.”

Jonah straightened in his seat and flipped through the notebook; page after page was filled with detailed schematic drawings and notes and formulas, most of which looked to be pulled from his memory exactly.  There were pages devoted to his Percussive Propulsion Drive, as well as his studies on his theory of AI developing sentience.  One selection of notes was new to him – a rough outline of a possible plan to make the Satellite of Love an independent ship, free from its tether to the moon.  The last few pages had ink pen drawings of all of the bots, even M. Waverly and Growler, complete with part breakdowns.  He closed the notebook, stunned.  His eyes narrowed and he yanked another book from the nearest stack.  From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Ray's face blanch as he thumbed through the next set of notes.

Invention Exchanges. Some completed, some he was still refining, and some he hadn't even thought of yet. Those were clearly Ray's.

The following pages were full of notes about the moon base.  Ray had made a detailed study of Moon 13, level by level, including weaknesses and flaws and what could be made to improve them.  The middle of one page had a sketch of the God Monitor, with cartoonish speech bubbles around it, reading “THREE LAYER SECURITY YOU BIG OX.”

Jonah scoffed, amused.  “You're as bad as I am.  I've got notes like these on the Backjack and the buildings at Gizmonics back home.”

“I made some of those too,” Ray mumbled, his head hung low.  “They're on the bottom of the third stack.”

“What're you embarrassed for?” Jonah playfully kicked at his twin's boot.  “This is impressive stuff!”  He closed the book and smacked it on the edge of the desk. “Can you imagine what we could come up with together?”  The idea was actually very exciting.  Of course Ray had a similar thought pattern (and handwriting) to his, but even better, he had been developing ideas on his own.

Ray stretched toward the aforementioned stack of books, making a grab for notes near the bottom. As he slid the notebook out, he winced and hissed, dropping his work and shoving his finger in his mouth.

“You alright? What happened?” Jonah leaned forward, concerned.  Reluctantly, Ray held his hand down, a perfect papercut sliced right into his pointer finger.  “Ouch. You'll be fine, though, just give it a – Wait a minute.”  The Gizmocrat slid his glasses to the end of his nose and peered over them at the clone's small injury.  “You bleed purple?”

Perplexed, Ray blinked his eyes. “Yeah, doesn't everyone?”

Jonah sat his glasses back properly onto his face and slowly shook his head.  “Dude, human blood is supposed to be red.”

“Pfft, that's a weird color for blood.”  He retreated to the bathroom again for a bandage, while Jonah was left to mull over the growing peculiarity of everything happening around him and to him, as it were.

Ray's throwaway comment about his DNA failing to meet Kinga's standards gave Jonah pause. As far as his twin was concerned, this was perfectly normal.  He was a henchman, after all. This was all he'd known, right?

He followed the clone as far as the bathroom door and peered around the edge. He caught sight of Ray trying to align a plastic bandage with his finger and not having much luck.  Jonah sighed and intervened, making sure the cut was covered.

“Thanks,” Ray muttered.  “I can reprogram an entire security system, yet sometimes I struggle with the easy stuff.”  He wiggled his finger in approval.

Jonah propped a shoulder against the door frame, crossing one foot over the other.  “If you don't mind my asking, just how long did it take for Kinga to, uh, to make you?”

“Eef.”  Ray's mouth drew into a worried line across his face and he took a seat on the edge of the tub.  “The rumor going around is that I was a three-day rush job.” He stared at the floor.  “Which explains why I'm not exactly up to par.”

“That's an unfair assumption.” Jonah was downright indignant.  “She conjured you up in three days and you're writing full engineering specs and fixing her security! 'Not up to par' my eye!”

As he propped his elbows on his knees, the clone's shoulders drooped. His cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.  “That makes me feel a little better, coming from you.”  He chuckled.  “I don't think they ever expected me to meet Jonah Prime for approval.”

“Jonah Prime?!”

Ray stood, motioning toward the main part of his room. Jonah stepped aside to let him pass.  The twin retrieved yet another notebook from the drawer of his nightstand and presented it to the other boy.  “Essentially, I'm Jonah Beta.  I've been trying to track the differences between myself and the rest of the Crew and I'm not gonna lie – It's overwhelming at times.”

More notes. More drawings. Even Jonah was beginning to feel overwhelmed. He could only imagine what Ray was going through.

“I....uh....I wasn't the first attempt.”

Jonah's head shot up, his eyebrows snapping together.  “WHAT?”

“Dodo didn't make it.”  The twin parked himself on the bed.  Jonah's eyes were fixed on him and he fumbled to make contact with the mattress without toppling into the floor.

“I'm gonna need the whole story, Ray. What the heck is going on here?”

Ray took a deep breath and steadied himself.  “I'm not privy to everything, but I pay attention to what I hear and what happens around me.  After they got you out of Reptilicus Metallicus, Kinga didn't want to risk something like that happening again without a backup plan.  Word is that people really like you and you're really good at what you do.  She knows that.”

The realization hit Jonah hard enough, he almost felt dizzy.  “Her backup plan was a backup version of me?”

Ray nodded solemnly.  “The health checks were only about half honest.  It was a good excuse to get plenty of your DNA.”  He took the book from Jonah and flipped to a page in the middle, with rough “visible man” type sketches of three human male figures.  Side-by-side-by-side, they were labeled “Prime,” “Prototype,” and “Beta.”  “Kinga couldn't quite get the recipe right the first time.  That's where Dodo comes in.  He was supposed to be your exact copy, but he never made it past the first few hours of the process.  He broke down.”  
  
“...Mentally?”

The clone's head slowly moved back and forth.  “He was unstable.  He dissolved.  Terry was there and saw the whole thing.  That's how I know about it.”

Jonah shuddered, horrified.  The mental visual he had, whether accurate or not, was pure nightmare fuel.

“I was attempt number two,” Ray continued, his voice low, “and I think I'm mostly you, but Kinga added a few other elements to make sure I stabilized.”

“That explains the purple blood,” Jonah interjected.

Ray threw his hands up in exasperation. “Boneheads are supposed to have purple blood!”

Jonah thumbed through the pages following, finding notes where Ray had compared himself to other members of the Skeleton Crew.  There was no doubt that he was supposed to be one of them, but he didn't quite fit that mold, the same way he didn't quite fit being a standard human.

“Where'd you come up with the name?”

His doppelganger grinned.  “Since the protoype was Dodo, I thought it was fitting that I was Ray. Do-Re-Mi.”

Jonah closed the book and handed it back to his twin.  “This isn't the rabbit hole I expected to fall into when I got up this morning.”

“You're not the only one.”  Ray returned the book to its resting place in the nightstand.  “Sorry about all of that.  I know it's a lot to take in at once.”  He pinched at the bridge of his nose and scoffed.  “I knew you were living on the moon base, but I could not have imagined actually meeting you.  They've been so careful about keeping us separated and...here we are.  And now you know.”

“And now I know.”  Jonah flopped backwards onto the bed, arms akimbo.  “That explains why I lost track of time.”  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “For someone who was willed into existence over only three days, I have to say, you're pretty impressive.”  He caught the blush creeping across Ray's face again, this time an even deeper shade of pink. “Seriously – You're a fully-qualified engineer, you think on your feet, and you look exactly like me, except for the beard and the glasses.”

“New eyes,” Ray smirked, pointing at his head.  “And I don't really care for the beard.”

Jonah immediately propped himself up on his elbows. “Are you for real?”

“Number one, I'm not in any hurry to look older,” the clone explained matter-of-factly, “and number two, it's a nightmare to put makeup on over facial hair.  Don't forget, I still have to blend in with the rest of the guys.”

“Point taken.”

The two sat in silence for a time. Outside the door, Jonah heard the footsteps and chattering of other Boneheads as they returned to their dorms for the day.  How long had he and Ray been hiding?

Ray's eyes focused on the door. “That's Terry and Rickey.  They're nice guys.”  His gaze returned to his twin.  “But given our current situation, there are things even they don't need to know.”

Jonah rolled onto his stomach, leaning his head into his palms.  “Kinga's going to be looking for both of us at some point, isn't she?”

“Yeah.  And she's going to be pissed.”

The footsteps in the hall faded behind the sound of closing doors and all was quiet once again.

“So...Ray.  I've been thinking about this really useful invention for people who are always cold.” Jonah sat himself up, folding his legs under himself.  “Have you got that in your notes yet?”  
  
The clone's face lit up.  “The Yarn Bomb? Only in its preliminary stages.”  
  
“You wanna work on that?”

“I'd love to.”


	3. In Search Of...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga can't locate her primary experiment and that's not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Again, I couldn't wait to share this one. Inspiration hits at the most uncanny of times. We've got more Boneheads in this one!

Heavy, but quick footsteps echoed down the hallway of Moon 13's central hub. Kinga Forrester had gotten wind of some news that was not pleasing to her in the least.

“MAX!”

Her silver-haired second banana toddled out from one of the doorways, worriedly wringing his hands. “Yes, Your She-vilness?” He fell into step behind her.

“Do you want to explain to me how in the world Heston escaped?” Her face was nearly as red as her hair.

Max's head tilted sideways in confusion. “As far as I'm aware, Heston's still on the moon base.”

Kinga crossed her arms over her chest and nearly glared a hole through Max's head. “Then why can't I find him anywhere? We've been combing the entire base for hours and it's like he's vanished!”

For a split second, Max raised his hand and squeaked slightly, then was quick to shut his mouth. Kinga seized his face in her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“You know something,” she hissed. “SPILL IT.”

“Wve hab am alerp errwier, buh ah dun fink eh wuh ammyfink.”

The young Forrester scrunched her face in disgust. “What?” Her expression softened when she realized she was still holding firm to Max's face and she quickly let go. “Anyway…what?”

Max cleared his throat and patted his cheeks. “We had an alert earlier, but I don't think it was anything.”

Kinga's face wrinkled up again, her hands now in fists, pounding at her thighs.

“We've checked everything,” Max amended, “and there was no trace of any actual escape attempt. The Skeleton Crew cleared the main hall and I had Terry run a full security system check. We think there might have been a hiccup in the Kingachrome.”

“Then where's Heston?” she demanded angrily. “He promised me no escape attempts! I knew I shouldn't have trusted him.” She continued her trek down the hallway, with Max following closely.

The two of them entered the main hall of Moon 13 and Kinga activated the God Monitor. As far as she could tell, everything seemed to be in good shape. All her systems were in check; there were no traces of security violations… Why did she get a breach alert? She knew that her precious Kingachrome technology still had its issues, but that couldn't have been it. Heston was clever and clever was dangerous.

She typed in her passwords and activated communication with the Satellite of Love. The purple button at the right of the screen began flashing and a quick press enacted the feed. She was greeted by the baffled gazes of the main three mechanical beings on the ship.

“Greetings, robots,” she said calmly. “I need your assistance.” She pointed at Gypsy. “You. Purple One. You run the ship's essential operating systems, correct?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the large purple bot answered, nodding.

“I need you to run a scan of the ship,” Kinga continued. “Do a search for any warm-blooded lifeforms anywhere up there.”

Gypsy seemed taken aback. “I can tell you right now that there are absolutely zero warm-blooded lifeforms on the Satellite. Nearly everything up here that's moving is primarily molybdenum.”

“I need a lifeform scan. NOW.”

The purple bot sighed and called down Jet Screen, which flashed up a full schematic of the entire SOL. “Initiate lifeform scan. Type: human.”

Kinga narrowed her eyes at the figures on the monitor. “How did you know I was looking for a human, hmm?”

While Jet Screen went through the scan, Gypsy groaned and looped a tendril over her headlight. “There's only been one human that you've ever sent up here and after you jettisoned him back down The Tube that last time, we haven't seen hide nor hair of him since. Who else are you looking for?”

Within moments, Jet Screen returned the results of the scan: zero living beings on the SOL, animal, human, or otherwise.

Kinga read the scan results again and again, disappointment evident on her face. “He's not up there,” she said quietly. She glanced across the main hall – The Backjack was still tethered in place, though it wasn't like he could have escaped in that, either. She had made sure the fuel tanks had been emptied, even the reserves. “Where could he be?” She turned her attention back to the robots. “Have you seen or heard anything from Heston at all?”

Crow hovered near Tom and hugged him. Tom patted at the bigger bot's claws as they both shivered. Gypsy wrapped a portion of her coils around the pair of them and moved herself to the foreground of the feed.

“I'm sure that if he found a way to get up here or contact us, you'd know more about it than we would.” Her reply was calm, but very firm. She curled another section of her tendril onto itself and pressed a button on the console, ending the transmission.

Kinga remained at the God Monitor console, mouth agape. “Did I just get shut down by a big purple robot?”

“I'm…I'm afraid so, My Iron Lady,” Max stammered nervously. “But like I said, it's possible that it was a false alarm.”

It was looking more and more like Max was right, loathe as she was to admit it. That still didn't explain what happened to Heston.

“If he's not on the SOL,” Kinga mused, “and he didn't escape to Earth, then he must still be here. He has to be.” She bit at her knuckles in consternation. “If I was a big goofy nerd, where would I hide?”

A handful of Boneheads filed into the main hall, some tending to the usual maintenance issues, a couple others tuning up the house band's instruments. Kinga spied Bonehead #1 among them and flagged him down.

“You! Heston hangs out with you sometimes, doesn't he?”

Terry shrugged and halfway hummed an answer at first. “Yeah, at times. We had a Mario Kart rally yesterday and Rickey kinda kicked his butt. Poor dingus didn't know we'd unplugged his controller for the longest time.”

Kinga grabbed him by both arms. “He's still here! Where? Any ideas?”

“You could try the lounge on Moon 12. That's where I saw him last.”

Her Madness finally broke a smile. “Thank you!” She released her grip on the Bonehead and ran back toward Max. “Have security detail search every lounge on each level. If anyone has seen Heston at all, they are to report to me. Got that?”

Max clicked his heels and gave a sharp salute. “Yes, Your She-vilness!” He turned quickly and grabbed a couple of the Crew from the maintenance group, leading them out of the main room and into the hallway.

“If he didn't try to escape, I'll be impressed,” Kinga sighed. “I can't help feeling like something's off.”

* * *

THUMP THUMP THUMP

Ray threw his pillow over his head.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

“Hey Ray!”

“Uuuugh,” he snarled and clumsily sat up in his bed. Was that a piece of paper stuck to his face?

Yup.

“RAY! It's Rickey! You awake?”

“Yeah! I'm 'wake!” he bellowed back. “Gimme a minnit.” He fumbled with the sheets, bare feet getting tangled in them clumsily. He finally simply flopped out of bed onto the floor. From that angle, his eyes met a scruffier version of his own face, cuddled against a large plush penguin, sound asleep.

He had completely forgotten about Jonah Prime.

If Ray wasn't awake before, he was definitely awake now. He nudged at his twin until he stirred at last.

“Huh? Whuh? Gypsy, iz not time for 'vention 's'change, gimme five more minutes.” Jonah pressed his face into the stuffed penguin's belly and began snoring again.

Ray's face fell into a pout and he shook Jonah once more, only this time more fiercely. “Jonah, you HAVE to get up! Number Two's out there and if he finds you here, we are both in so much trouble!”

It was eerie to hear the same growl in the same timbre coming out of someone else there in front of him. Ray had heard about “out-of-body experiences” in humans. He was certain it felt similar to this.

Jonah pushed himself up to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He patted at the floor almost ham-fisted, until he made contact with his glasses, then slid them onto his face. A sleepy look at his twin made him jump at first, then he quickly settled laughing. “Sorry, man, I was so wiped out, I forgot about you for a minute.” He eyed the clone and shook his head. “You slept in your uniform? Don't you have any pajamas or like, old band shirts or somethin'?”

Ray was nonplussed. “You slept in your jumpsuit. I don't think you've got room to talk.”

THUMP THUMP THUMP

Oh yeah!

“Look, you go hide in the bathroom and I'll see if I can get Rickey to buzz off till I can sneak you back to your dorm,” the clone insisted. He looked around at the fresh wads of paper in the floor and the pair of notebooks that were perfectly aligned with each other, plan-wise. Between the two of them, they had come up with at least fifteen new inventions and had improved upon five more shared ones.

Jonah staggered to his feet and limped toward the bathroom. His awkward gait told Ray enough – One foot was still asleep. Regardless, he hobbled inside the doorway and kept quiet while Ray answered the main door.

“Hey-hey, Ray!” Rickey chimed happily. His smile flipped to concern almost as fast. “You alright? You look like you didn't get a lot of sleep last night.” He lowered his voice. “You didn't have nightmares again, did you?”

Ray offered him a smile and shook his head. “Nah, I just stayed up too late. Got a bunch of new ideas, so I ended up working on those. You know how it is, you get into something you like, then you lose track of time.”

Rickey sighed in relief, his cheerful demeanor returning. “Okay, good. Glad to hear it. You gotta take care of yourself, though.” He leaned against the door frame. “Anyway, I know your shift doesn't start for a while yet, but I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I'm good,” Ray answered. “Thanks for checking on me.” He unsuccessfully tried to suppress a yawn, which resulted in Rickey repeating the action. “Sorry. I think I might take a little nap before I'm due at Moon 12.”

“That's cool.” Rickey gave him a firm pat on the arm, then paused oddly. His focus went from Ray's eyes to just past him. No, behind him. “What's that back there…?” He stumbled backward a couple of steps, eyes agog. “Ray. RAY. Oh, holy bees, Ray! Why didn't you tell me you were having a sleepover?”

Oh no. _How did he know?_ Ray sneaked a peek over his shoulder and saw exactly how. The mirror on his dresser was across from the bathroom and Jonah had forgotten to shut the door. Anyone could easily see that yellow jumpsuit practically glaring in the mirror's reflection. The clone dragged both hands down his face.

Rickey gently nudged past Ray, in spite of their height difference, and peered around the corner, waving at Ray's impromptu guest. “Hi Jonah!”

Jonah gave an embarrassed wave back. “Hey Rickey.”

“Next time you guys decide to hang out, you better call me,” the shorter Bonehead gently scolded. “I've still got the last Galactic Wrestling Throwdown match that you haven't seen yet and Cornbread can make a decent pizza.” He made his way back to the door, giving Ray another pat on the arm. “Just so you know, Kinga's looking for your twin there. Word is she's nearly turned this place upside-down, when really, all she has to do is ask, right?”

“Uh, yeah, right.” Ray was ready to choke, he was so unnerved.

“I'll tell her not to worry. I figure you two will be down before your shift starts. See ya later, Ray-Ray!”

And with that, Bonehead #2 was gone.

Ray just stood in the doorway, staring at Jonah's reflection in the dresser mirror. Jonah stared back.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, it's fine,” Ray whimpered as he closed the door. “I thought we'd be in a lot more trouble than that, honestly.”

Jonah slowly emerged from the bathroom, combing through his hair with his fingers. “We still have to deal with Kinga.”

The clone flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “She's worked really hard to make sure that I never encountered you. This is a massive monkey wrench in her plans. It's freakin' Bobo-sized.”

“That is one big wrench,” Jonah snickered. He took a seat beside his twin. “Try not to worry about it, Ray. If she's going to be mad at anyone, it's going to be me. I'm the one who slipped off when I wasn't supposed to.”

“If I've done my job right, she's going to think that there was nothing more than a glitch in the system.” He shielded his eyes with the crook of his elbow. “When I shut down your transmission, I pulled the closed-circuit feed from a couple hours earlier and threw it into the video plumbing, so it should look like no one was ever there. Kingachrome is unstable enough that you can override it if you know what you're doing.”

He felt a set of knuckles nudge him in the ribcage and he uncovered his eyes, finding Jonah gaping at him in stunned silence.

“Cambot's still got a copy of the security feed, in case you're wondering,” he continued. “I sent them a command for encryption, so right now, that particular feed exists only in their memory banks. They'll unlock it for you or for me, but that's it.”

“…How?”

Ray pushed himself up and took a deep breath. “Well, see, with video plumbing technology, you —”

“No no no,” Jonah interrupted. “How did you manage all of that in – No, the bigger question is how the heck Kinga was able to duplicate my brain into yours so flawlessly… How are you even _real?_ ”

Jonah couldn't seem to help laughing and for the life of him, Ray couldn't figure out what was so funny. Maybe the poor devil had already been in space too long.

Ray slowly pulled himself up from the bed and tromped to the dresser, retrieving a fresh set of clothes. He surveyed the mess the two of them had managed to make and resigned himself to cleaning it up later. Right now, he desperately needed a shower and to clear his head.


	4. Bones and Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like any workplace, Moon 13 has its gossip...and it's starting to circle back to the subjects of a few rumors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the idea of the rumor mill amused me, and I couldn't help but let some of the bit players state the most obvious of observations, too. It's a huge moon base, but such a small world.

During their trek back to the main area of the moon base, Jonah tried to pay closer attention to his surroundings. For once, he could understand why his classmates at Gizmonics fussed at him for walking too fast at times – Ray was far ahead of him, long legs taking huge strides, enough so that Jonah was struggling to keep up.

“Slow down, Bones!” he called to his twin. “It's not like there's a fire!”

Ray stopped and sheepishly looked back at him. “Sorry. I just don't want to be late for my shift. Kinga's going to be mad enough as it is.” He adjusted his helmet, tightening the chin strap.

“You let me worry about Kinga.” Jonah took a moment to catch up. “What is it that you do here, exactly?” The pair of them fell into step together.

Ray snorted. “Shipping and receiving. It's easy, which means it's boring.” He looked ahead thoughtfully. “I've put in for a transfer to the security department, since I know that's where I could do the most good, but nothing's come of it yet.”

“If they're smart, they'll realize that's where you belong.”

“You think so?” It was the most hopeful Ray had sounded.

“Oh, I know so,” Jonah chimed happily. He meant it, too. There were definitely better things ahead for that guy, if given the chance. “If you need a letter of recommendation, I'd be more than happy to write you one.”

They reached the end of the hallway and Ray paused, scoffing, almost embarrassed. “You are nothing like what I expected.”

Jonah was taken aback. “What?”

“I thought for sure you'd hate me,” Ray muttered thoughtfully. He crossed the main path of the dorm area, leaning against the railing on the other side. “You were pretty mad at first.”

“Well, yeah. Yeah, I was.” Jonah joined him at the railing, the edge of which overlooked a small atrium and two levels of living quarters. “But once I realized it wasn't your fault, it was stupid for me to get my hackles up about it. I'm still really sorry, Ray.”

The twin kept gazing down into the atrium. “It's not easy being a second-rate copy. My head's a mess and I just want to fit in.”

“Hey!” Jonah rolled his knuckles into the clone's shoulder. “What's this 'second-rate copy' crap? As your scientifically genetic twin, I can't let you talk like that. Not when I've seen how incredible your brain is.”

“It's _our_ brain, Jonah.”

“Yours and mine. How's that?” He tapped at Ray's helmet. “C'mon, don't put yourself down.”

No answer, just a pained sigh.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Ray fiddled with the buckles on his vest, unfastening them and fastening them again. Jonah draped an arm over his shoulders and hugged him.

“We can talk about it when you're ready, if that's alright. Heck, you only just met me.” Jonah stepped back. “No pressure, no judgment. I just want to help.”

“I like hearing that. I mean, you're so much like me... Well...” The twin let go a small laugh. “That makes sense, though, huh? I guess we'd better go already. Your dorm's on level 8, right?”

“Yeah,” Jonah nodded.

“We're on level 5 – I can drop you off on the way down.” Ray made a quick turn, heading toward a wider hallway, carpeted with the strangest mix of red, blue, and gold, laid out like patchwork medallions. It was louder than the carpet at the bowling alley back home. “Main elevator's over here. We shouldn't have to sneak through the back way this time.”

Shrugging, Jonah followed him, going past more numbered doors, which he figured were even more Skeleton Crew dorm rooms. He felt oddly self-conscious as they walked down the corridor, as if they were being watched. That was ridiculous, though, right?

A quick peek behind him proved precisely the opposite. A more petite Bonehead was behind them, though at a distance.

Jonah gave Ray a nudge with his elbow. “You think we're being followed on purpose?”

Ray turned slightly, careful not to clock his twin with the bones on his helmet. “Nah. They're probably just going the same direction.”

It wasn't long before Jonah swore he could hear more footsteps behind them. _Don't look back, don't look back, don't look back..._

By the time they reached the elevator, they had somehow become a party of ten: Eight Skeleton Crew members, one clone, and one human.

“I might have been wrong,” Ray whispered. He sidled up closer to Jonah, then hid behind him, shivering. “Maybe we should have taken the back way again.”

Jonah shuffled sideways, forcing Ray out of hiding. “C'mon, it's okay. These nice people just want to ride the elevator with us.” He assumed that's why they were there, but the stares that he and his twin were getting did make him wonder. It was beyond unnerving. “Alright, someone needs to blink already 'cause you guys are starting to scare me.”

One of the Boneheads waved a hand and hopped in place. “You're _that_ guy!”

“... _That_ guy?” Jonah readjusted his glasses.

Another one kept looking back and forth between Ray and Jonah both, surprised. Yet another simply kept staring at Jonah, not moving at all.

At last the elevator arrived and the twins quickly slid into the cab. Their shared polite nature kept them from trying to close the doors prematurely. Instead, they were followed by as much of their crowd of onlookers as would fit. Seeing how both Ray and Jonah were considerably taller than them all, it was an exercise in caution to avoid getting smacked in the chin by another Bonehead's helmet apparatus.

The elevator cab lunged into motion.

And then it began.

“You're Kinga's test subject, aren't you?”

“Everyone was right!”

“Gosh, he's tall. Isn't he tall? They're BOTH tall!”

“He really DOES look like him!”

“I heard they took off one of the big guy's toes and they grew the other big guy from that.”

“That's not how science works!”

“I...I actually have all my toes, thanks,” Jonah interrupted nervously.

They all suddenly went quiet. It was then that the cab stopped and the first couple of passengers exited the elevator. The doors shut and the ride went into motion again.

“If they didn't grow him from your toe, what did they use to make him?” the same inquisitive Bonehead persisted. “Everybody knows you gotta have a sample.”

“They took a lot of blood, I know that,” Jonah groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Was it red?” Ray asked with a sneer.

Another Bonehead was apparently very shocked at this. “Wait, it comes in another color?”

Ray pointed at her, satisfied with her query. “See? I told you red is a weird color for blood.”

“His blood's red?”

Jonah threw his hands up. “Human blood is supposed to be red!”

Stop number two. More Skeleton Crew members exited the elevator cab, only leaving Ray, Jonah and one more Bonehead. At least they could all spread out now. Level 8 was next, which was where Jonah made his temporary home.

The last remaining Bonehead said nothing, but continued to stare at the two taller beings at the back of the elevator. In a way, Jonah could understand why Ray wanted to hide behind him, but maybe this one little minion didn't know any better than not to stare?

The elevator stopped once more and the last Bonehead stepped out.

Ray bopped at Jonah's elbow with his own. “Your stop, buddy.”

“Oh yeah.” Jonah took a step or two, then hesitated. For one, he didn't want to leave Ray alone if an angry Kinga Forrester was what the poor guy had to face. He couldn't help feeling protective of him. Sliding back into the corner next to his twin, Jonah allowed the doors to shut.

Ray's head flitted back and forth in confusion. “But but – “

“I've decided it's Take Your Clone To Work Day,” the Gizmocrat announced casually. “So, I'm taking you to work.”

“You don't work here,” Ray scoffed. That laugh was impossible to hide. “Thanks for the escort. I guess that's what it is.”

The cab groaned to a halt one last time. Level 12, shipping and receiving.

“I just want to make sure you're gonna be alright.”

They both left the elevator, this time with Ray leading the way. This was another part of the base Jonah hadn't seen. He had been on that level, but apparently it was on the entire other side, the more publicly accessed area. Boneheaded henchmen walked to and fro, several outfitted with hi-viz versions of their standard vests. Ray's head perked up and he held an arm out in front of Jonah, smacking him in the chest. It was then that a forklift rumbled by, loaded with a specially secured crate. Ray pointed to a safety sign on a post nearby, featuring a simplified version of a forklift and two Boneheads – One was driving, the other had been run through.

BE SAFE! WATCH FOR FORKLIFTS!

“Thanks,” Jonah said almost breathlessly.

“Wouldn't want anybody to try to kill you with a forklift,” Ray cautioned. He stopped suddenly, as if an odd thought hit him, then shook his head quickly. He grabbed hold of Jonah's hand and led him out of the path of danger and toward what looked like an office. Turns out, it was more or less a command center. There was a center console, lined with a couple of computer monitors, and a one-way mirrored glass window that looked out onto the main docking area. A ship similar to Jonah's Backjack sat on a platform, as freight was unloaded from its cargo hold.

Ray pulled a notebook from a small set of lockers at the side of the room, then seated himself at the console. He opened it and Jonah spotted more writing, this time peppered with adhesive tabs and neon sticky notes. He honestly wondered when that guy ever stopped writing.

“882, this is 750, we are signing off on manifest,” a voice crackled over a speaker in the wall. “Raygun, you got your ears on?”

The clone pressed a button on the control panel and leaned into what looked like an older model microphone. “750, this is 882. Can you give a guy five minutes to sit down, Spam?”

A laugh came back over the airwaves. “I saw you come in. I had to give you some trouble. We're good to let this guy out. Just need the go-ahead from you.”

“You're clear, 750!”

The area around the ship was very quickly evacuated and the platform on which it sat began to rise, lifting the ship to the moon's surface. A black and white feed on one of the monitors showed the craft as it left the launch pad and sailed off into space. Jonah couldn't help the pang in his heart over that.

“What exactly do you guys get out here?”

Ray swiveled his chair around, facing his twin. “Well, we _are_ a fully operational moon base, so there are things like supplies and fuel... Movies for conversion...” He grimaced. “Sorry. I haven't been here long enough to have actually brought in anything that's been sent to you already. Kinga's having some new ones reviewed in hopes of another season, though.”

“I don't blame you,” Jonah said with a shrug. “You're just doing your job.” He watched the platform as it was lowered back into the bay. “I'm surprised there's so much going on. I thought it was all just bad movies and henchmen and dinosaur meat.”

“Nah, there's more to us than that,” Ray chimed. “You wouldn't see it, though, since you're usually up there.” He nodded skyward. “I haven't met everybody yet, either, so I'm still kind of on the outskirts of any of the social circles.”

Jonah kicked back in his own chair and leaned his head on his palm. “It was always the same way with me. You'll find your place.”

The radio snapped to life again. “882, we've got a small craft in range. Requesting permission to land.”

“I'm gonna need some identification on that bird, 750.” Ray quickly reviewed his notes. “We've got a schedule to keep and he could throw it off.”

“10-4... It's an Amazon order.”

The clone sighed, shaking his head. “Space drones. Permission to land denied. Have it drop the box in the chute. We'll take it from there.”

Jonah was again taken aback. “Space drones?”

“Darn things are a pain, but up here it's the best way for us to get certain stuff.” At last, it was quiet again, and Ray resumed scribbling in his notebook. Jonah thought he spied more equations and measurements – There was another invention brewing in that boy's head, he just knew it.

“Hey, Ray, I'm curious – Do you ever stop writing?”

He paused, contemplating the question. “Not really. When I was first made, there was so much in my head that I couldn't handle it, so someone told me to write it down. So I did. Now I can't stop.” He unfastened his vest, revealing a row of small pockets hand-sewn to the lining of the top. His room card, a keyring, pens, and a pair of even smaller notepads were tucked safely inside. “It's more of a compulsion, but it helps me cope with...y'know, everything.”

Feedback blared through the PA system, making everyone in the docking area cringe and reach for their ears.

“BONEHEAD #882! REPORT TO THE MAIN HALL! NOW!!!”

Ray looked positively nauseous. He was shivering from head to toe. “Well, that's it. I'm dead now. It was really nice meeting you, Jonah.”

“No no no,” the Gizmocrat scolded. “Don't talk like that. I'm going with you. It's my fault you're in trouble, it's only right I take responsibility for it.”

“I broke some serious protocol,” Ray groaned miserably. “What if she decides I'm not worth keeping around? What if – “

“Ray, stop,” Jonah shushed. “It'll be okay. Don't go all worst case scenario on me yet. You saved my butt, I'm gonna save yours.”

The clone seemed to relax, though only slightly. “They really did pick a good human to make me, huh?”

One of the other Skeleton Crew members offered to take Ray's place while he was being called on the carpet. Jonah didn't catch the new guy's name, but was a bit surprised when he cheerfully and enthusiastically shook his hand.

“I feel like I'm getting a lot of stares now,” Jonah whispered to Ray as they ran to the elevator. “Am I imagining things or – “

Ray shook his head. “I don't think so. It's feeling weirder and weirder around here for some reason.” As they hopped into the elevator cab, the clone yanked off his helmet and took a few deep breaths. “I am so nervous right now.”

Just as the doors were closing, two other Boneheads clambered into the elevator. They huddled near one another, whispering back and forth and....giggling.

At last, one of them spoke, though rather softly. “My friend didn't believe me when I said that one of our new guys looked just like you.” She pointed at Jonah almost gleefully. “I can hardly believe it!”

Jonah arched an eyebrow and smiled mischievously. “You know we're related, right?”

The two Boneheads let out audible gasps. “Are you serious?” the other one demanded.

“I am _totally_ serious,” Jonah went on. He looped an arm over Ray's shoulders and drew him in for a sideways hug. “This guy here? Literal blood relation.”

Ray snorted and laughed.

The littler Boneheads chattered with the human and the clone for the duration of their ride. Ray was in no hurry to meet with Kinga, so they ended up going down to Moon 14 first with the Boneheads before traveling back up to Moon 13.

They stood outside the doors of the Main Hall. Ray had put his helmet back on, but was trembling so much, it looked like the bones on top were wobbling.

“It'll be okay.” Jonah gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

His twin took a deep breath – a rather futile attempt to calm himself – and reached for the door handle.

“I hope you're right, Sunshine.”

 

 


	5. Surveillance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing worse than being called to the boss’s office, unless of course, you work for Kinga Forrester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ray. He’s still the New Guy and already, he’s in seriously deep poopie.

Kinga was furious. No, she was beyond furious and getting angrier the longer she had to wait. There was no getting around that fact. Once word had gotten back to her about that clumsy Bonehead having _hidden_ her test subject, as if this was one giant game of hide and seek, she was ready to not only throw him on Dino Duty in Moon 14, but maybe even offer him up as feed.

“No, no, you can't do that yet,” she told herself. “He's new. He's experimental. Maybe we can still train him... But ugh, what nerve.”

The doors to the Main Hall creaked open and a rather oversized Skeleton Crew member trotted in, his head bowed. He seemed to be shaking in his boots. _Excellent._ “Bonehead #882 reporting in, Your She-vilness.” Even his salute showed the fear in the air around him, as it should have been with all of her henchmen.

“So nice of you to follow rules for a change,” Kinga snorted from her platform. “Care to explain yourself? Is there any excuse you can pull out of your butt that could possibly even begin to cover it?” She propped her back against the platform railing, hands on both hips, awaiting his response.

“Well, ma'am, you see, it really was...kind of an accident,” the minion said lowly, voice barely above a whisper.

Oh, this had to be good. #882 was still new enough there was no way he could think of a creative enough excuse to convince her of anything. He most certainly lacked the brainpower.

The doors opened again and her primary experiment, bespectacled and clad in bright yellow as always, tromped into the hall. He had all the grace of Godzilla in Tokyo.

Heston waved cheerfully as he hurried to #882's side. “Hi Kinga! I heard you were looking for me?”

“Like all day yesterday, you big geek.” She stomped her foot angrily, rattling the metal partitions underneath her. “You promised me you wouldn't try to escape!”

“And I didn't,” Heston replied, practically beaming. He flung an arm over the Bonehead's shoulder. “I was hanging out with the Skeleton Crew most of the day. They're not so bad. This guy here's pretty okay-like.”

That was not exactly the answer she was expecting. Heston was gone for _hours_. Someone like that couldn't be trusted loose in the moon base alone for an extended amount of time. He was entirely too clever, having repaired and upgraded the robots on board the Satellite first thing, then even going as far as to hack into her video plumbing system for a public service announcement about copyrighting monster movie portmanteaus. But even the SOL's robot crew had not seen him; there was no record of a genuine escape attempt or even any unauthorized communication transmissions, so maybe he was telling the truth?

Another Bonehead made his way into the hall. He strolled past both Jonah and #882, waving as he approached the bandstand.

“Morning, Ray! Morning, Jonah!”

“Hey Chuck!”

“'Sup, Chuck!”

The taller Bonehead's shoulders shook in a laugh. “....Did you seriously just make that joke?”

“It was an accident, I swear,” Heston shrugged.

She could stand Heston socializing with her crew to a point, but at the end of the day, they knew to whom they answered, didn't they? In that moment, a realization hit Kinga so hard, she felt her legs go numb.

The clone and the cloned had somehow managed to find one another. This was _terrible_. Three weeks of careful planning and experimentation, of keeping her control away from her variable, of making sure there was no outside influence on her experiment-within-an-experiment – It was all ruined.

"You two were never supposed to see each other! You shouldn't even know the other one exists! I have taken every precaution under the sun and now you're...cracking stupid jokes together?” She fumbled to sit on the edge of her own podium, head in her hands. “I can't believe this.” She turned her attention to the other minion in the room, who appeared to be busy changing a guitar string. “You there! Can you vouch for this idiot?”

The other Bonehead peered up from the Stratocaster in his lap and blinked. “Pardon my ignorance, Your She-vilness, but which one?”

“The big yellow one, of course, you dolt!” Kinga groused. Seriously? He had to ask?

“Jonah? Pfft, yeah.” The Bonehead waved a hand dismissively and continued to tend to the guitar, threading new strings onto it as needed. “Though he can't play Mario Kart worth crap.”

“You guys play dirty!” Heston defended. “You can't unplug a guy's controller and call that a fair game, Chuck.”

“Rematch!” #882 said, throwing a fist in the air. “Bowser versus Yoshi! FIGHT!”

“You're getting your video game tropes mixed up, Pandabro,” Heston cautioned. “Although, I bet we could find a way to make that work in a rematch...”

“No, you stop that right now! There will not be a rematch of of anything!” the redhead bellowed. “I want answers!” She again fixed her eyes on the tall Bonehead standing in front of the platform. “You – You knowingly hid my test subject from me. Explain yourself.”

His smile faded and his eyes darted around anxiously. He fidgeted with the cuffs of his gloves for a few seconds before Heston intervened.

“It was an honest accident, Kinga. We bumped into each other, and kinda had a Parent Trap moment,” he explained, voice sincere and calm. “Don't put the blame on Ray here – I was the one wandering around unsupervised.” He paused, thoughtfully putting his hand under his scruffy chin and giving it a scratch. “Although, technically? I was still under Bonehead surveillance since I was with this guy the whole time.”

Kinga's eyes boggled and she wrinkled her nose at the pair of idiots before her. She had not considered that as a possibility at all. Heston had made a valid point that lined up with everything else so far...and she absolutely hated it. “You were watching him the entire time he was gone?”

“Yes, Your She-vilness,” #882 replied enthusiastically, giving a salute. “He was no trouble at all. Model test subject, in fact.” Heston straightened beside him, giving a perfect mimic of the same salute.

“Oh, good grief,” the young Forrester sighed. She rose again, tromping back up to her place on the platform, and rolled her eyes. “I really cannot believe this. So I had half my security team combing this place from crater to crust, and you two were just....having hang-out time together? Number Two was right?”

The pair of them nodded, muttering in agreement.

Kinga resumed her authoritative pose and stomped her foot again. “Fine. You're off the hook, #882. You kept Heston in check for a full night, which I guess for you, is pretty impressive considering you're still new on the job.” She locked eyes with her other experiment. “You – Don't cause so much trouble while you're here! I mean, at least put forth some effort toward that end, okay?”

“So, no cattle prod?” he asked, lowering his glasses. “We had a deal, Kinga.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she grumbled in pure annoyance. “No cattle prod. You held up your end of the bargain, I guess I can hold up mine.” She still didn't fully trust him, but with no proof of any wrongdoing and with a solid alibi, she was stuck. Evil and mad as she was, even Kinga Forrester had a few standards. “#882, get back to work. Heston... Go do...whatever it is you do around here, I dunno. Just stay out of trouble!”

“Yes, ma'am!” came the double reply. It was like a weird Jonah Heston echo chamber. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

She watched as the pair tromped out of the Main Hall, speaking to each other in hushed tones.

...This was decidedly bad.

 


	6. Moon Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even members of the Skeleton Crew have to deal with things like understaffing and overtime. Just like us, they enjoy some of life's simpler pleasures, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for slice-of-life type things and adding that to a universe full of genetically engineered beings is kind of fun. I made mention of the_technicolor_whiscash's own Bonehead, Ed, and I hope that's OK!

In the days that followed, life at Moon 13 seemed to develop a new routine, at least as far as the twins were concerned. Jonah spent most of his daylight hours coming up with more invention ideas, as well as refining some of the older ones on which he and Ray had collaborated. If he could just get hold of some wool – real or synthetic, it didn't matter – the Yarn Bomb would be a reality in at least another week, maybe less.

Meanwhile, Ray was more or less doing the same thing, although he'd found himself a little busier than usual, what with a few more of his fellow Boneheads at last introducing themselves to him. If he wasn't mistaken, maybe he was actually making friends now? They were very warm and welcoming, which was an incredible relief to him. He was starting to feel like he fit in.

It was near the end of the week, which meant a change in shifts was pending for the Moon 12 crew, which also meant Ray would have some well-deserved time off. Jonah bundled up his notes and headed down to the crew lounge on level 14. If his timing was right, he'd make it there for lunch with Ray. They had both been so busy lately that their time together had been rather limited. It was worse for Ray – He had been stuck pulling double shifts when his evening replacement was reported first as sick, and then never showed back up.

Jonah made his way toward the dining area at the Mesozoic Grill and immediately spotted a group of Boneheads all seated together, gabbing away. It gave him pause for a moment – What would you call a group of those guys, anyway?

“ _A Skelling Ton.”_ He slapped his forehead and scolded himself. “Geez, Heston, that was Dad Joke level bad.”

A Skeleton Crew member happened to pass by right then, and snorted in amusement as he returned his lunch tray.

Jonah shook it off and headed toward the chattering group, trying his best to nonchalantly peer into their helmets to find his twin.

At last, Ray raised his hand and waved. “Sunshine!” He scooted his chair to the side and his tablemates did the same to make room for the human.

“Hey, Bones!” Jonah pulled a chair from a nearby table and slid into the lunch group. He stuck out like a sore thumb, a complete beacon in yellow, while everyone else was clad in black and skeletal motifs. “There's no chance of you getting out of that second shift tonight, is there?”

Ray shrugged, still chewing his sandwich. The Bonehead next to him spoke up, giving the boy a chance to finish eating.

“We're not so sure about tonight, but as far as any of us knows, we get some time off once the next shift is over, at least.” He looked at his friend. “Right, Raygun?”

“Yep, just a few more hours, then we can breathe for a while. Thanks, Spam.” He pushed a box of fries toward Jonah. “Here. Can't finish 'em.”

The Gizmocrat shrugged and stuck a fry in his face. He lit up suddenly. “These don't taste synthetic. Something's wrong.”

One of the other Boneheads leaned toward him, her voice low. “We might have snuck in some real potatoes a couple of weeks ago. Rare Earth treat. We save 'em for special occasions.”

“Ed's working on cultivating a few of them up here, so we don't have to smuggle them in anymore,” Ray added. “I've helped him with a basic irrigation system, which is really just a simplified hydroponic setup, but it works.”

Jonah raised an eyebrow at his Boneheaded clone. “And where on Earth did you learn about that?”

Ray matched his expression exactly. “I dunno, where'd YOU learn it?”

“Touche.” He had another fry.

Lunch conversation went from contraband potatoes to the exhaustion of overtime to wondering if anyone had ever seen Ardy's face, then back around to the usual worklife chatter, weekend plans and the like.

“We're having a little get-together Saturday night,” one of the seemingly younger Boneheads announced, though the longer Jonah hung around any of them, the more he realized their supposed “ages” really didn't matter – They were all synthetic creations, pre-programmed for the most part. That's what Kinga had led him to believe, anyway. He was beginning to question that line of thinking more and more. He gave his head a shake, trying to make his brain stop overclocking and focus on the now, rather than drift off on another tangent and....Crap, he was doing it again.

“Hey, Ten Hestons of Fun, you still with us?”

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry. Mind went elsewhere a moment.” He knew he was blushing; his face felt red hot.

One of the other girls at the table gently tapped at Jonah's foot with her own. “Aw, Ray, he looks like you when you get all embarrassed!”

Jonah glanced at his twin, who rolled his eyes dismissively, but was turning his own unique shade of pink just under that layer of face paint. Ray coughed and cleared his throat. “What's this about Saturday night, Jay?”

“The short version is, we're having a party and we wanted to know if you'd like to go,” the younger Bonehead said with a nod. “It's a good chance to meet some of the other crew, Ray.”

The twin's eyes went wide, almost panicked, and he looked toward his brother, totally baffled. “I...uh...well, that is...” He poked thoughtfully at the remains of his sandwich. “I've never been to a party before. What do I do?”

Jay's smile widened. “I forget you're still kinda new to everything. You just show up and have a good time! Easier than guiding ships in and out of the docking bay, that's for sure.”

Jonah gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow. “You should go,” he whispered. “Make some friends. It's all part of finding your place!”

“I dunno.” Ray seemed more than a touch nervous. “It sounds like it involves a lot of people. I'm not sure I'm ready yet.”

“Heston, you know you're invited too, right?” Jay added. “You two are like weird peas in a pod, so it'd be wrong to leave you out. Besides, we like you.”

He sat up straighter in his chair, grinning. Ray wasn't the only one making new friends. “If I go, you think you might go too, Pandabro?”

Ray considered this, making faces and bobbing back and forth in his seat for a minute or so, then at last he conceded. “I'll go. I'll give it a try, anyway.”

The rest of the table cheered, even Jonah. He was proud of his lab-grown little brother. He was finding himself!

Spam pulled the cuff of his glove back and made a quick check of his watch. “I hate to break it up, but it's time for round two of this glorious and glamorous job of ours.”

“We are truly glamorous,” Jay playfully amended. “People just don't know it yet.”

The group stood, clearing their trash and returning their trays to the wash pile. Jonah was last to leave the table and suddenly realized he had kept firm hold on his notebook the whole time. He hurriedly held it toward his doppelganger.

“I came down here to give you this, but it almost slipped my mind.” He offered a crooked smile. “I was hoping if you got a break, you might have a look at the updates I added?”

The grin on Ray's face was unmistakable. “Is this Yarn Bomb 4.3?”

“YES. I think we've got it.”

Ray's excitement was enough that he skipped a couple of steps, triumphantly hugging the notebook to his chest. “We're this close to finishing our first real collaboration. You're the best, Sunshine.”

One of the girls turned toward the twins, almost walking backwards as the group headed to the freight elevator. “I have to ask what the deal is with your nicknames for each other. Is this some kind of code or what? I mean, I get the Bones thing, but Sunshine?” She wagged a thumb at Jonah. “This guy?”

“Amanda, he's my total best friend, and _look_ at him.” Ray tugged at one of Jonah's jumpsuit sleeves. “He's literal walking sunshine.”

“Ah-hah, that makes sense,” she hummed, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. “And what about Panda-what was it?”

“Pandabro,” Jonah snickered. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ray slumping. “When I first met him, he kinda....reminded me of a panda. So it stuck.”

“Wait wait wait.” Amanda stopped and held out her arms, pushing against both boys' chests. “How in the world did Raygun here make you think of a panda?”

Ray sighed and begrudgingly removed his helmet. Amanda's eyes went from his face to Jonah's, then back again. Her mouth was agape, then it bowed into a huge smile.

“Oh my god, your round little face.” She squeaked and quickly covered her mouth with one hand, while excitedly waving the other. “Oh, oh, this is too cute. Both of you, you're killing me.” She turned and ran to catch up with the rest of the crew.

Groaning, Ray put his helmet back on and gave a sideways glare to his twin.

Unfazed, Jonah shrugged. “You still look like a panda.”

Amanda waved from the elevator. “I better see your panda-butt at the party, fella!”

Jonah wondered if the blush on Ray's face could be seen from the SOL.

 


	7. Boned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins attend their first party on the moon. Hijinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I’ve written, holy cats. I should warn folks that there is discussion of deep dark fears, as well as drinking, but you should be okay. Borrowed Bonehead OCs from several friends for this one, too! (A couple more may show up in future installments.) Thanks for letting them come to the party!

 “You have to tell me about Earth parties again, Jonah.”

“There's really not that much to tell. You go hang out with some of your friends, have a few laughs, maybe a few drinks, probably end up acting stupid, and then someone embarrasses you about it on social media the next day.”

Ray frowned. “I'm not so sure about this.”

The Gizmocrat bumped him with his hip. “You'll be fine, I promise. If it gets to be too much, let me know and we'll leave.” The elevator ground to a halt at level 7 and the doors whooshed open. “I'm proud of you for trying this. That's pretty big for you.”

As usual, the two of them fell into step together. It seemed unavoidable.

“This sort of falls into my top ten biggest fears,” Ray sighed. “Probably ranks about a seven.”

“Dare I ask what number one is?”

The twin fidgeted with his vest buckles again. “It's a tie.”

“What, like a necktie?” Jonah was perplexed, but all fears were valid, after all.

Ray's helmet bobbled as he fiercely shook his head in disagreement. “No no no, I mean there are two that rank the highest, right next to each other.” He slowed his pace, then stopped walking altogether. Jonah skipped backwards to catch up with him.

“...Raymond?”

“I've had dreams where I dissolve like Dodo did,” the clone said quietly. “I don't think it could really happen, but the fear is still there.”

Jonah felt his stomach squirm. No wonder the guy had trouble sleeping. “Buddy, no...”

“The other one? I get sucked into space and just... Well, you know what happens when there's no oxygen or a suit fails. You boil to death.”

Fumbling for the railing, Jonah missed and very gracelessly flopped down in the floor. His eyes refused to focus and his legs felt numb and useless.

Ray crouched in front of him. “You alright? You look paler than I do!”

Jonah perched his glasses on top of his head and rubbed his eyes. “Ray... Raymond. Pandabro. I have never in my life told anyone my biggest fear. And you just repeated it back to me.”

“I'm...I'm sorry, Jonah. I didn't mean to get into your headspace like that, I just – “

“Don't apologize,” he interrupted firmly. “This is where you get kinda spooky for me, I guess.” He caught the dejected look in his twin's eyes. “I'm not mad. I'm just...freaked out.”

The clone scooted next to his brother on the floor, leaning against the partition beneath the railing. “You wanna talk about it?”

It was funny to hear his own words coming back at him and Jonah couldn't help a small laugh. “When I first signed up for the space program at Gizmonic, I was determined that I wasn't gonna chicken out. It's actually extremely dangerous. I mean, even with all the advances and precautions and failsafes in place these days, there's always that chance you might not make it. Let me tell you, they remind you of this CONSTANTLY.” He took his glasses off the top of his head and wiped them on the front of his jumpsuit. “I made it as far as the first test mission, where I'd get to ride shotgun along with one of the more experienced guys, right?”

The twin was riveted. “Yeah?”

“I threw up all night before the test shot.” Jonah buried his face in his hands. “I think I even threw up before they locked me into that suit. God, it was horrible.”

“But you made it! You're a Backjack pilot!”

“Yeah, and I'm experienced at it and I know all the safety checks by heart, but...” Jonah finally put his glasses back on. “Nothing has put as much fear into me as that one dream that comes back to remind me something could go very wrong and I get sucked into space and explode.”

“How come you never told anyone?”

The Gizmocrat shrugged. “I didn't want anybody to know I was scared...which is kind of dumb in a way, 'cause it's okay to be scared. Everybody's got their deep, dark fears. It's part of being human.” He leaned his head back and it thumped against the partition. “It doesn't happen as much as it used to, though sometimes my subconscious will throw in a new twist, like maybe The Tube malfunctions during the intro. That's fun.”

Ray drew his knees against his chest, fingers drumming against his boots. “Can I ask how you made it through that first space shot?”

“Passed with flying colors. Perfectly healthy, no damage, fully functional, and ready for assignment,” Jonah beamed. He snorted. “I peed a little.”

The clone toppled over, giggling. “Sorry, sorry, sorry...”

Jonah found himself giggling too, then laughing hysterically. “No, it's fine! If we're gonna have Honesty Hour right here in the hallway, man, we're gonna HAVE it.”

They must have looked like complete idiots, with one of them sitting next to a trash can and the other rolling on the floor, both laughing so hard, they could barely breathe. At least Jonah could feel his legs again. He pulled himself to his feet, then offered a hand to Ray, who had collapsed into a puddle of uncontrollable giggles.

“Feel better?”

Still snickering, Ray grasped onto Jonah's arm and was on his own feet in an instant. “Y'know, I do.” He straightened his helmet once more and checked his vest pockets. “It's funny. It's kinda like a big weight just left me.”

“Same.” What a relief.

\-----

  
The twins stood before the door of room 756. There was no doubt that this was the right place: The cacophonous mixture of people's smalltalk and the muffled strains of house funk could be heard a good three feet from the threshold.

Ray gulped hard. “We might be moving that social fear up to like a four or a three right now?”

“You got this, Bones,” Jonah reassured. “If nothing else, we'll go in and say hi. That's enough.”

The clone nodded and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “I can do this.”

Jonah brushed his hair out of his face and straightened his belt before rapping his knuckles against the door a couple of times. A minute might have passed before the door opened and Jay, the smaller of the level 12 lunch group, appeared, drink in hand and a huge smile on his face.

“You guys made it!” He turned to the rest of the party-goers. “Guys, the twins made it!” Several loud “WOOOOs!” echoed back at them and Jay stepped aside, allowing them access.

Ray and Jonah found themselves neck-deep in Boneheads, though it looked like Ray was the only one who kept his helmet on. Jay tapped another crew member on the shoulder and pointed at the clone. The other Bonehead held his arms aloft.

“I'll take that. We're stacking everybody's headgear in the spare room.” He happily took the clone's helmet, carefully minding the apparatus on top. “Nobody wants to get hit with one of these things. Let me know when you're ready to go, okay? Gimme your number and I can find your bucket.”

Jonah bent down slightly so he could better hear him. “What's your name, so we can find _you?_ ”

“Reggie. Bonehead #75.”

The clone extended his hand. “#882. Ray.”

Reggie enthusiastically gave his hand a shake. “Raygun!” He then offered the same courtesy to Jonah. “And this has gotta be Ten Hestons of Fun. Glad you guys could come! Go say hi to everybody, grab a snack... We got drinks too, but I'd advise you to maybe stay away from Cherry's homebrew.”

Jonah narrowed his eyes. Reggie had his attention. “Oh yeah? Why's that?”

“You're human, right?”

“Last I checked.”

“Trust me, you are not prepared for full-on Bonehead brews. Maybe a little, but they're not like what you Earthers drink,” Reggie cautioned.

Jonah had not been to a party of any sort since he had left grad school on his deep-space meteor mission. That had been a two-year journey. Tacking on his time spent held captive aboard a bone-shaped spaceship tethered to the moon, that was another year. The couple months he had racked up at Moon 13 just added insult to injury, reminding him more and more of what he missed about having a normal life.

Over six feet. Roughly two hundred some odd pounds. Tired, homesick, and full of attitude, plus the uncanny ability to drink anyone in the room under the table.

Oh, he was totally going to do this.

\-----

If Ray was going to be perfectly honest with himself, he felt very exposed without his helmet. He'd only taken it off a few times in front of any of the others, but it was never long-term. It was always within reach. He quietly thanked whoever had the bright idea of keeping the lights in the dorm low; maybe no one would notice the makeup.

As he tried to get his bearings, two shorter Boneheads each grabbed onto his hands, pulling him away from his brother and straight into the fray.

No, actually, it was the snack table.

“You're really here!” The Bonehead on his left practically sang at him. “Remember us?”

“We saw you in the elevator the other day with what's-his-face!” the one on his right added in almost the same tone. “I'm Em, #134 and this is Cal, #113.”

The clone managed a crooked smile. He did remember them! They had both seemed rather taken with him and Jonah that day, but they were nice girls. “#882 – “

“ _Ray_. We know!” They giggled in unison.

“How do I already have a reputation? I barely leave my dorm or the dock!”

Cal fluttered her fingers and made a face. “Pfft, honey. Word travels fast on the moon. We've heard you're some kind of engineering wonder.”

“There's a rumor that you actually kinda let Kinga have it,” Em said, wrapping both her arms around Ray's. “Is that true?”

“Uh...We just pointed out that we hadn't broken any rules is all.”

Em looked up at him, impressed. “You talked back to the Iron Lady. That takes BALLS.” She fluttered her eyes at him.

“Stop trying to flirt with him, Em.” Cal gave her hair a playful yank. “He looks kinda nervous. Ray, are you okay?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free arm. “I'm...a thousand percent nervous right now. This is my first party and I don't really know what to do...”

The two girls immediately snatched up items from the snack table. Cal handed him a red plastic cup full of pink liquid, while Em handed him another red plastic cup full of...were those dino scratchings?

_Sniff._

Yes, they were. Mesquite.

He eyed the liquid contents of the other cup suspiciously and Cal patted his hand.

“Since it's your first time at one of these, we don't want to get you sick. That's pink lemonade.” She grabbed a cup of her own, while Em opted for something of a different color. He could smell that one, even at a distance.

He found himself being escorted to a sofa in the corner and the trio of them took a seat.

“Sooo, Ray,” Em began, squishing into the plush cushions and making herself comfortable. _Wait, did she just pat his thigh?_ “Spam told us you write all the time. What do you write about?”

He rolled his shoulders. “It's boring stuff, really. Equations and blueprints, things like that. Sometimes, I write about my day or what I dream about.”

Leaning forward, Cal tapped her cup against Ray's. “You ever heard of 'Hamilton'? Have I got the perfect song for you.”

\-----

“This one here is Bone Orchard, that's the apple one.”

“Yup.”

“We call this one Grimdark, it's primarily your traditional grape, remember?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Jacob's Ladder is the heavier one, a bit more bitter than the others...” Cherry, #268, Brewmaster of Level 6, ran through the drink options _yet again_ for the big yellow human. “Heston, make sure you're paying attention this time, won't you?”

“Boneapples, Ed Grimley, Chutes and Ladders – Got it.” He had already discovered that the Boneheads had created a basic beer of choice, Luna'rover, which honestly tasted terrible, but the stuff had a surprisingly great kick to it. Jonah had downed four of the darn things and was working on his fifth. His curiosity was getting the better of him regarding those other drink choices. The fact that the Skeleton Crew had their own underground liquor operation was nothing short of impressive. “What happens if I mix 'em all together and just...like...chug the thing?”

“Your cute yellow jumpsuit turns brown in about five minutes,” Cherry answered flatly. She stood on her toes, yanking the bottle from Jonah's hand mid-drink. “If you ask me, you've had more than plenty already. Your system isn't made for this stuff. We'll have to come up with something lighter.”

“Pssshhhhh...” Jonah thought he felt himself wobble, but no, no, he was fine. “I appreciate the concern, but I am perfectly okay. This is nothing compared to what I used to put away in grad school.”

She side-eyed him cautiously. “You're sure? We have rules here and one of them is not to let anyone feel pressured into doing something they shouldn't.”

He blinked a few times, gaping at the bottles on the table for what had to be the umpteenth time. “Nobody's feeling any pressure, Cherrybomb.”

“You're probably not feeling your legs either, are you?”

He pointed and guffawed. “Hah! That's good! That's a good one.” Jonah scratched at his beard, contemplating his choices. “Lemme try the Boneapples, please.”

“Bone Orchard,” Cherry corrected. She placed a red cup in his hand, curling his fingers around it. “And you're only getting a splash.”

“Two splash.”

“No, only one.”

“I promise you, I can handle it. Come onnnn...”

She hung her head in defeat and filled the cup nearly to the top. “I'm going to regret this, aren't I?”

“You are doing a kindness and I thank you.” Jonah held up his cup and nodded, then proceeded to down the thing like a soda. Instead, he sputtered and coughed, nearly toppling over. He braced himself against the table until he had caught his breath.

Cherry merely sighed and shook her head. “I _told_ you.”

Still breathless, and glasses cocked sideways, Jonah regained his bearings and grinned like a fool. “This is amazing. Like...I feel like someone just punched me in the chest and tried to maybe, I dunno, rip out my pancreas or somethin', but WOW.” He whirled around, searching the room. “Hey Ray! PANDABRO! Dude, you gotta try this!”

\-----

Ray had already tried Bone Orchard. In fact, it was the first thing past pink lemonade that he had dared put in his system, aside from three cupfuls of dino scratchings and a homemade donut. Cal wasn't kidding when she said Ed made the best donuts. Ed wasn't much of a partier, but he never failed to provide the best pastries on either side of the moon.

Cal and Em's friend BJ, coincidentally Bonehead #69, had joined the trio and at some point, Ray's height became a topic of discussion. BJ stood on the couch cushions, while Ray stood upright in front of him. Well, as upright as he could, considering he had nearly matched his twin on alcohol consumption.

“Did they give you a bucket with shorter bones on it? Because this is clearly unfair.” BJ held his hands out parallel to the floor, measuring the height difference between himself and the other Bonehead.

“Beej,” Ray slurred. “My guy, my dude... You have to understand that I didn't ask to be this tall, it just kind of happened. If your head was up here all the time, I bet your ears would pop.”

“I bet it's nice, being able to see over everybody,” the smaller Bonehead pouted. “You don't have to stand on your toes for anything, nobody ever steps on you or runs over you. It's nice up there, innit?”

“The beds are too short,” Ray countered as he took another swig. “The beds are too short, it's near impossible to find pants that fit, and Max had to get custom gloves for me cos my stupid hands are freakin' HUGE.” He held up his right hand and splayed out his fingers. Em pressed her palm against his and marveled. He wasn't kidding.

She suddenly looked concerned. “You don't think Kinga will start making bigger versions of us, do you?”

Ray shook his head, messy hair tousling all over the place. “Nah, there's no way she'd do that. She'd hafta practically rebuild this place to accommodate a buncha dang giants, basically.” He tipped his cup back – Empty. “Well, shoot. Raygun is out of rocket fuel.”

Cal grabbed a cup from a passing Bonehead and gave it a sniff. She cringed. “Uff. This is that skunky Jacob's Ladder mess. You don't want this one.”

As Cal turned away, Ray reached for the cup and made contact. “I haven't tried that one yet. You let me be the jud of that.” He paused. “Jud? JUDGE. Judge Pandaface, court is now in session.” He made the same mistake his brother did in trying to chug that concoction. The results were similar. Ray was a sputtering, wheezing mess; his eyes watered and he felt his nose start to run.

“It's the worst of the brews,” BJ said sympathetically, “but for some reason, there are people that like it.”

“I think my throat is on fire,” Ray whimpered, voice nearly gone.

The Boneheaded friends stood by cautiously. Em excused herself to fetch some water, since Ray was not looking too well.

He coughed and cleared his throat, then slowly took another swallow of the bitter drink. “It's not good, but it's not bad, either.” He still didn't have much of a voice left.

Cal crossed her arms and stared at him, incredulous. “You do realize that stuff's gonna burn out your gut, right?”

“This is the future. I think they can clone me another one of them.” Ray finished his drink.

\-----

As the night progressed, it certainly became more interesting.

The Boneheads in attendance had so far been treated to some very poorly executed karaoke, the highlight of which was Jonah attempting to make it through “Don't Stop Believin'” without cracking up or falling over. In trying to shrug out of the top half of his jumpsuit, he managed to get himself tangled in a sleeve and screamed something about “what's up for snakes!” before he wound up in the floor.

Meanwhile, Cal had sabotaged the DJ's set and of course, subjected everyone to her favorite selections from “Hamilton,” as she and Em attempted to teach Ray all the steps to the Schuyler sisters' dance number. Since Ray was new, he was relegated to the role of Peggy. He decided to commit to this in some fashion and had wrapped a tablecloth around his waist as a makeshift skirt. Three “Works!” in and his legs failed him.

Sometime during the evening, Ray and Jonah were reunited, albeit as a drunken pile of humanity on the floor. Their backs were braced against each other, struggling to hold the other one upright.

Ray tried to hold up one foot. He pointed at it and tapped Jonah on the shoulder repeatedly, arms crossed over his chest. “Jo-Jonah? Jonah. JONAH. I can' feel muh legsh righ'now.”

Jonah cackled and slapped both his thighs with his palms. “I haven' felt mine in like th' past HOUR. You're okay, dude.”

“We should...” Ray burped unexpectedly and the taste in his mouth was absolutely foul. “We should get anuvver drink. I like this. I like deez people.”

“This was a goooooood idea,” Jonah smirked, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “And more drinks is an ever better idea. Goo'job, Rayeeee.”

They couldn't even stand up. At first, it was funny, until it wasn't, and they collapsed on each other in a tangle of limbs, like a couple of newborn giraffes. Ray was stretched across his brother's midsection, while Jonah had managed to get an arm caught in one of the cut-outs of Ray's vest.

“Funshine, yer toolkit is pokin' me in th' junk.”

“How many armholes does yer dumb vest HAVE, Pandapants?”

“You boys are not okay,” a voice, accompanied by what appeared to be fiery red hair and green eyes, stated the obvious. It was yet another Bonehead and she crouched before the twins, arms loaded with bottles of water. “Have you eaten anything since you've been here?”

“I hads a donut and some dino crunchies,” Ray yawned.

Jonah whimpered, continuing to struggle with Ray's vest. “I forgot about food.”

The curly-haired Bonehead groaned and placed her payload of water on the floor, then slowly helped Jonah work his arm free of his brother's uniform vest. She then did her best to pull Ray upright enough that Jonah could wriggle out from under him. With minimal direction, she managed to get both of them propped against the wall and she placed a bottle of water in each one's grip.

“I'm Gabby, #142.”

The two gave sloppy grins and half waves.

“Haaay Gabby.”

“Yo Gabba Gabba HEY.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and groused. “And you two are dangerously stewed out of your minds. Do you have a way back to your dorms? Who's your sober person?”

Their eyes widened in sudden, terrible realization. They pointed to each other.

“Oh, my poor sweet human boys. You're not made for this stuff!” She patted at Jonah's knee and nodded at the water he'd been given. “Drink that.”

“He's th' hoomin,” Ray argued. “I'm perfelly fine.”

“You're hoomin enough that it makes a difference, dear. Now drink up.”

The two reluctantly remained there on the floor, each nursing their own bottle of water as Gabby kept close watch. She flagged down another crew member, who vanished into the crowd, then returned with a couple of cups full of crackers. Gabby practically stuffed a saltine into Jonah's mouth.

“Hrrghghgh.”

“Chew, mister. You'll thank me later when you're not puking your guts up.”

“Haaa haaa, Jonah's gon' be sick,” Ray teased. He was quieted by a cracker in the face himself.

“Same goes for you,” Gabby insisted. “I'd love to know what you were thinking, but my best guess is that you weren't. I'll talk to Jay about limitation rules for you guys.”

She was met with dissent and crumbs. Unmoved, she tapped at both their elbows. “You finish that water and I want all those crackers gone.” As she stood, she caught Ray and Jonah both with a stack of saltines jammed in their faces. “It's not a race, boys. This is for your own good, I promise.”

\-----

At roughly 3:00 AM, moon-time, most of the party had cleared out. All that remained were a few stragglers – Some were there to help clean up, others chose to sleep there instead of trying to make it back to their respective living quarters. After an accident with the punch bowl, Lucky, #777, had opted to sleep in the bathtub. Poor guy never had the best chance around any type of liquid and he always seemed to smell of Kingachrome as a result.

“I think we need to revise the rules,” Gabby stated dryly as she repackaged chips into zipper bags. “I usually don't have to worry about anyone getting too smashed, but those two worry me.”

Jay nodded sagely. “Humans. I like having them 'cause they're fun guys, but they are a liability issue, both of them.” He took the remainder of the donuts and other pastries and set them onto the living room sideboard. “They tried, I'll give them that.”

The redhead sighed. “Think they'll be okay? I've never had to deal with them before.”

“Better check on 'em,” Jay suggested. “We can get them home in the morning, once they've slept it off.”

Gabby nodded and tiptoed around the couple of Boneheads napping on the floor, past the one on the couch, and quietly opened the spare room door. The twins were huddled next to each other on the bed, legs dangling off the edges of course, snoring away peacefully. Jonah had one arm looped around his brother's shoulder and Ray held onto it, his head in the crook of Jonah's elbow.

It was cute, she couldn't deny that, but they were really going to feel miserable in the morning.


	8. Validation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after the big party and Ray is not doing so well. There are problems that go deeper than just a hangover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this written since October and just now got around to posting it. This was a tough chapter to write, but I needed to drag some things out of Ray's head. Poor Panda. He's got a lot of baggage. Big thanks to speccygeekgrrl for letting me borrow her Bonehead, Gabby, for this one.

Weightless and floating, that was the sensation. It was only when he opened his eyes and tried to take a breath that everything felt wrong. Surrounded by pale purple liquid, he found he was unable breathe and he thrashed inside that weird prison, hands banging against invisible walls.

The liquid at last began to drain and he gasped for air. Whatever container held him opened and he fell onto the cold floor, coughing and retching until that bitter, lavender substance had cleared from his lungs and his mouth.

Everything felt wrong. His entire body ached to the point that his muscles burned. Why was he here? What was this place?

He glanced to his side, spotting the door to his former holding cell. The light was just right for him to see himself: He was pale, with dark hair that was a wet mess currently, a round face, and large dark eyes with heavy, expressive brows. The dark circles around his eyes made him look even more tired than he felt.

He sat there, staring at his reflection, silently asking himself the same question over and over: _'Who am I?'_

He couldn't remember. Surely, he had to be somebody – His mind raced through scattered memories, trying to piece anything together. It was a mess of large buildings, maybe a spacecraft, skeletal ghouls, stars, and...flashes of movies? The only thing he could visualize clearly were equations and measurements. He decided to focus on those; they grounded him and made him feel a little less terrified.

...He was still naked on a cold tile floor in a place he definitely did not recognize, though.

Further inspection revealed he had been inside some sort of tube. There were several present in the room – a laboratory maybe? – plus computer consoles and some sort of...research equipment that he couldn't begin to wrap his brain around.

“Mhmm...”

He froze. Wait, wait. Calm down. If someone else was there, that was good news, right? He could ask them for help! Maybe he would ask them for a towel first. That purple gunk was everywhere.

Parked next to his tube was a gurney and sure enough, the form resting on top of it was human-shaped. Terrific! _He_ was human-shaped! His excitement slowly began to fade when he spotted the tangle of wires and diodes and smaller tubes leading to a strange hookup on his former holding cell. They were all connected to the human resting on the gurney.

He wasn't sure if it was curiosity or bravery that finally made him edge close enough to inspect his fellow lab occupant, but his breath hitched when his eyes at last made contact.

That was _his_ face. He was scruffier, darker, and bespectacled, but this guy was wearing _his face_.

No, wait. That wasn't right.

Tube. Liquid. Lab. Lab rat.

“What the heck _am_ I?” It was jarring to hear his own voice bouncing off the white walls of the facility, whatever it was.

The shuffling of feet could be heard outside the lab door and his heart pounded hard enough, he felt dizzy. He looked at his twin, still unconscious on the gurney, and wondered if there was any way he could disconnect him from all of that extraneous equipment without hurting him. The last thing he needed was to be left alone like that. It was horrible.

“You woke up early!” a voice boomed from behind him. “Looks like our alert system needs a little work.”

He turned and was facing a shorter, stout man with silver hair. The stranger was dressed head-to-toe in white, with some kind of special eye wear propped on his head. He was flanked on either side by two figures clad in black and white, expressionless beneath their helmets, each sporting a pair of bones on top.

...They were the skeletal ghouls from his scrambled memories.

Though oddly smaller than he was, they seized him by the arms and led him toward the door, the shorter man rushing behind to sling a towel around his waist.

Everything blurred in a rush of doors and weird purple pods and lab equipment until at last, he found himself in a small, stark room. It was equipped with only a bed, a table, one chair, and a corner bathroom setup. They'd given him pajamas, the pants of which were too short, but at least he wasn't covered in that purple goo anymore.

One wall of his room held a rather large mirror. He couldn't bear to look at it; he saw his own face and wondered whether or not his twin was safe. He'd been left alone and that wasn't right.

None of this was right. He couldn't remember his name, but at least he was sure that his moral compass wasn't hindered.

A voice from nowhere echoed in his ears.

“Ray? Ray! RAY!”

Ray's eyes shot open and his limbs flailed helplessly. His vision focused onto a friendly pair of green eyes staring at him, a cascade of wild, titian curls hanging just above them.

“Gabby,” he gasped, relief evident in his voice.

“You were really out of it,” she offered softly. She sat back on her knees, gesturing toward the pile of clothes on the floor. “What's all this about?”  
  
Ray pushed himself up to a sitting position and rubbed clumsily at his eyes. “Huh?”

Gabby scoffed. “Why are you in only your underpants?”

The clone glanced down at himself, acknowledging this fact. His tired, achy brain finally kicked into gear. “When I got back here, everything felt really hot, so I decided to ditch the uniform.”

Gabby nodded at his rumpled pillow, not far from the discarded clothing. The case covering it sported streaks of black and white makeup. “And sleep on the floor?”

“And sleep on the floor,” Ray sighed heavily. “It made sense at the time.” He couldn't believe how badly his head hurt. It was as though he was being stabbed in the back of both eyeballs; he couldn't even see straight. Everything was too bright, too loud, too...well, _everything_.

The other Bonehead stood from the floor and made her way to the bathroom. “I heard you weren't doing too well, so I thought I might check on you.”

Ray could hear her rattling various things in there, cringing with every single noise she made. It was like someone revving up an STS ship for takeoff right inside his skull.

Gabby emerged holding a small white bottle and a glass of water, a damp washcloth draped over her opposite wrist. She seated herself next to the clone and placed the glass in one of his hands. A moment later, she had put an aspirin in the other. “Take that. It'll help.”

Ray was too miserable to argue.

After a few sips of water, Gabby moved the glass aside, then scooted closer to him, placing a hand firmly under his chin. She dutifully began scrubbing at his cheek.

“First hangover, huh?”

Ray let out a grumpy sigh as Gabby pulled his face back toward her.

“That's a yes,” she said with a nod. “It's funny how Jonah was just as grouchy as you are.”

Every bit of misplaced anger vanished and Ray's eyes widened. “Is he okay? We were both...pretty wasted.” His voice trailed off into a sheepish whisper. “I'm sorry we were jerks last night.”

“You? Pfft, please,” Gabby snorted as she made another pass at his forehead with the little rag. “Both of you were funny, honestly. But you really worried me.” She paused and had a look at the washcloth. “You're a mess right now, Ray.”

Being hungover, Ray's reflexes were nowhere near standard functionality and slowly, very slowly, did he realize that Gabby was indeed washing off his face paint. His camouflage. _No no no!_ He clumsily made a grab for her hand and held onto it with both of his. The words simply would not come out of his mouth and he barely stammered, “No.”

Giving him a gentle pat with her free hand, Gabby sighed. “Ray, it's okay. We know. We _all_ know.”

The clone released her hands, his entire body slumped in defeat. He had tried to be so careful and as it turned out, it was all for nothing. He wrapped his arms around himself and whimpered. “I just wanted to fit in.”

“No one ever said you didn't.” The redhead again tugged at his chin and resumed cleaning his face of the smudges of black and white. “I know Kinga sets some pretty strict rules with her 'branding' or whatever, but when it's just us? You don't have to do this.” She paused, giving him a once-over; he couldn't even look at her. Instead, he managed a sniffle and he felt his eyes spill over. “This is about more than a hangover, isn't it?”

Ray's breath hitched and he dug his nails into his skin. Gabby quickly patted at the hand nearest her, pulling loose his grip, and she curled her fingers around his.

“You're always good for a laugh or a joke, but you never really _say_ much. Talk to me, Ray,” she implored. “Sometimes I think the only one who can get anything out of you is Jonah.”

“Even he doesn't know everything,” Ray interrupted, half-crying, half-laughing. “He's smart, but he doesn't have a clue what it's like being a cheap imitation.”

Gabby slipped off her knees, her bottom hitting the floor. She gaped at Ray a moment or two, face wide open in shock. “And there it is. Where did you get the idea that you're – “

Ray huddled into himself tighter. “Have you seen me? Have you taken a really good look at me?” He propped his head against his knees and sobbed. It hurt. God, everything just hurt so much. “I can't live up to whatever it is everyone expects. They wanted a perfect copy and what they got was me. I can't even tie shoelaces, Gabby.” He ground the heels of his hands into both eyes, trying to clear them, but the tears simply would not stop. “What you guys got is Ray, who struggles with his memory, who is overemotional, and who was literally born a failure.”

He didn't expect Gabby to force her arms around him in the tightest of hugs. “You know all of that is your brain lying to you. None of that is true.” She sat back again and pulled his hair out of his eyes. “I remember Spam telling me about the new guy they got on Level 12, who rewrote the full logistics setup for the entire moon base on his first day. And who had created an entirely new tracking program on day two.”

He gave a shrug. “It's just computers.”

“Ray, your doodles in the manifest margins are equations for new forms of rocket fuel.”

He let go a huge sigh. “I tend to fixate. It's how I cope with all of....this.” He gestured to himself, then wiped at his eyes again. “Sometimes it feels like the only reason anyone tolerates me is 'cause I look like Jonah Prime. Those are shoes I can't fill.”

Gabby quickly corrected him. “No one 'tolerates' you, Ray. We love you. You're one of us.” She sat herself back against the side of the bed, then took hold of the clone's hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “And twins really are a thing that happens with humans. Just because you look like your brother doesn't mean you _are_ your brother. You are your own person.” She paused and snickered. “You two couldn't be more different.”

Ray dropped his head back against the bed, though unfortunately, being so tall, he ended up with his head on the top edge of the mattress instead. He groaned, irritated. “They could've made me a little smaller. I'd have been fine with that.”

“You're just fine the way you are, Raygun.”

At last, a laugh, albeit a weak one, then things were quiet again.

The clone slowly lifted his head and faced Gabby. “I had a dream about where I came from.”

She gasped and tried to hide her smile behind her free hand. “Your birthday! Every Bonehead remembers their birthday. It's the biggest day of their lives!” She released her grip from Ray's, happily gesturing. “There's usually a group of us and we all get to know each other. We're already numbered, but we get to pick our names right then if we want to. Your friends that you share pod space with are your friends for life, honestly.”

Ray's expression fell. It seemed like everyone's experiences were vastly different from his own. “We were in a lab. Alone. And they still had my brother hooked up to my tube-pod-whatever-thing.” He closed his eyes, remembering the dream. “I couldn't even talk to him. He was out cold.” The warmth in his eyes surged again and he cringed. “They took me away and left me alone. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want him to be alone.”

“None of this has been fair to either of you.” Gabby stroked his head, pulling his hair out of the way. He whimpered and leaned into her touch, still crying quietly. “It's okay for you to be upset about it.”

“I hate being upset,” Ray groused. His voice cracked.

“And if you keep holding it in, you'll explode,” Gabby retorted pointedly. “Those feelings are valid. Don't feel like you need to bury them. That's what I'm here for. That's what we're all here for.”

Ray huddled against his knees even tighter, shivering. “Thanks. I think I needed to hear that.”

Gabby brushed his hair out of his eyes one more time and smiled. “If you need to talk, don't you dare hesitate to find me.” Her smile quickly faded when she noticed his arm hairs were standing on end. “You're shaking non-stop! Ray, are you alright? You're not going to be sick, are you?”

He shook his head very slowly from side to side. He felt his teeth chattering the slightest bit. “It got really cold in here all of a sudden.”

Gabby stood, taking the washcloth and aspirin back to the bathroom. “Your body's recovering! But maybe sitting around in your underwear isn't the best thing.” She returned to the bedside, then rounded the foot of it, approaching the dresser on the other side. “Do you have anything clean to wear so you don't freeze to death?”

Ray slowly uncurled himself from the floor, feeling even colder than before. “Bottom drawer's got some pajamas in it.”

“Perfect!” Gabby slid open the last drawer of the dresser and first pulled out a T-shirt, followed by a pair of flannel pajama pants. As she held up the shirt, the folds in it flopped right out, revealing a giant skull motif across the front. The pants were a different story – They were covered in cheerful, cartoon pandas, chewing on bamboo. She passed them across the bed to Ray, who hurried to get dressed. “I have to know where you got those. That's the most unlikely pairing of things I've ever seen.”

Ray grinned as he pulled his shirt over his head. The static electricity in the air made his hair a tad wilder than usual. “Jonah got me these. Said he felt bad for me, always sleeping in my shorts or my uniform.”

“He certainly nailed your aesthetic.” Gabby patted the bed, then walked around to the other side of it again, retrieving the water glass for a refill. This time, she set it on the night stand. As Ray fumbled with the sheets, Gabby stripped the case from the pillow and dutifully tossed it into the hamper, along with the uniform from the previous night. “Here,” she said, stuffing the pillow behind Ray's head. “At least the pillow itself is clean. How's the head?”

Ray paused thoughtfully. It still hurt, but it wasn't pounding anymore, thank goodness. “Better.” He sank under the covers, trying his best to get comfortable, though the bed was still just barely too short for his frame. It was better than the floor, however. Definitely a lot softer. Warmer, too. He didn't realize how tired he really was until then. Ray tried to hide his yawning behind the bed covers, but it was to no avail. His eyes were sore from crying and heavy from pure exhaustion. He blinked a few times and saw the other Bonehead making her way to the door. “Thanks, Gabs...”

 

 


	9. Theropod Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gizmocrat and the misfit Bonehead finally take their first shared invention out for a test run. Even the best laid plans of mice and men and Moon denizens often go astray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend suggested that I needed some action to happen in the story again, then reminded me that HEY! These boys are on the Moon AND there are dinosaurs there. I ran with it. (Note: tw for blood toward the end, but not terribly graphic?)

This was it. Test Day had arrived for the Yarn Bomb, this time in what both Ray and Jonah hoped was the final version of the prototype. They were up to version 6.2, the physical manifestation of their invention at last. Though they worked independently of each other in building the little things, they continued to share notes and discussion to get their versions as close to identical as possible. Obtaining the yarn had been one of their biggest challenges, seeing as how there were no wool sources on the Moon. A friendly plea to Amanda in the uniforms department resulted in them receiving some of her own experimentation – Synthetic yarn from plastic polymers derived from, of all things, the Moon’s recycling station. The colors were outrageous and bright, but the yarn fiber itself was extremely soft. The twins agreed that Amanda needed to be included on the patents for such a brilliant contribution.

Ray adjusted his backpack straps, securing his bag of Yarn Bombs as he caught up to Jonah in the Moon 8 hallway. “You ready to throw these things at each other?”

“I won’t lie – I’m stupidly excited,” Jonah laughed. He zipped the top of his own backpack and strode to the elevator. “Next question is where can we really test these? We need room to throw and run… Maybe duck and cover, too.”

The Bonehead pondered the inquiry a moment, hand to his chin, just under his helmet. “The Main Hall is big enough, but you know that’s not gonna fly with Kinga. She’d be the first to tell us not to throw things in the house.” The frown he pulled was unbelievably sour.

Jonah raised an eyebrow at him. “You…you don’t like Kinga, do you?”

“I have issues with her lack of consent concerning my existence,” Ray sighed, voice flat. “Short version: No, I’m not a fan.”

“Fair enough,” Jonah said with a nod. “Where else can we find that much space?”

Ray’s eyes fixed on the floor and he bit his lip, deep in thought. After a moment, his eyes lit up. “Moon 14! The dino runs!”

For a second, Jonah’s hand hovered over the elevator button for Level 14, until Ray’s suggestion fully registered with him. His head snapped over to his twin, incredulous. “Are you _serious?_ Thunder lizards, Pandabro!”

Ray gleefully smacked at the “14” button on the panel. “Thunder lizards locked in steel pens, Sunshine. We should be fine.” The elevator shuddered and began its descent to the lowest level of the Moon base. “The main run has enough clearance that we can throw these things as high and as far as we want, set them off, and no one gets hurt. Unless one of us takes one to the face, then it’s game over.”

“It’s just yarn, Ray.”

“Yeah, but do you really want to take one of these to that handsome mug of yours?” The clone waggled his eyebrows playfully.

Jonah merely snickered and rolled his eyes, bumping his twin with his shoulder. “Your self-confidence is something else.”

“We’re both pretty and you know it.”

The elevator screeched to a halt at the usual entryway to the 14th level of the research base. Since Ray knew the way to the dinosaur pens, Jonah followed him closely as they skipped past the cafeteria, then the Mesozoic Grill, and finally a darker, seemingly more secured area. Jonah wrinkled his nose immediately.

“Yep, there are definitely animals down here.”

“Sorry about the stink, but yeah. There’s poop.” Ray punched a string of numbers into the illuminated security pad, there was a beep, and then the doors slowly groaned to either side.

Jonah eyeballed his doppelganger suspiciously. “How did you –“

“I told you I belong in security,” Ray answered wryly. “I can get anywhere I want to as far as the Moon goes.”

The twins waited for the doors to stop moving and they set foot inside. The ceiling was even higher on this level than it was on Moon 13, allowing decent headroom for the larger of the creatures inside. It looked like a cross between a zoo habitat and an animal shelter, only these animals were much larger and some much deadlier. Each pen was separated by a mix of bricks and steel bars, dependent on whether or not those particular species could cohabitate without problems. The more docile ones looked happy enough in their carefully cultivated environments. As the twins walked by, a juvenile diplodocus nipped at the top of Jonah’s head. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly took him by surprise and he jumped backwards right against a pen full of ankylosauruses. They honked at him until he was well out of sight, although their calls set off the stegosauruses, as well as the plateosauruses across the way.

Jonah had to stop and stare. Sure, the smell was typical to that of a stable, but the further he and Ray traversed into the runs, the more that was overpowered by the scent of lush plant life. Flowers and tall grasses flourished and the walls were thick with moss in some areas. It was its own lovely little ecosystem, full of animals that hadn’t been seen in billions of years.

“Unbelievable,” he whispered, breathless. “You guys shouldn’t be cooking these things. You should have them in a sanctuary.”

“Kinga’s orders,” Ray snarled. “Thankfully, the research and development team has enough synthetic DNA from these guys that if the need ever really arose, we could make them to order for that purpose.”

“You know there’s a book about that.” Jonah wandered to a pen that was surrounded by crossed steel pieces. “A whole movie series, too. Though just because you can, doesn’t mean – “

Ray let out a laugh. “Preaching to the choir, Dr. Malcolm, thanks.”

The Gizmocrat knelt in front of the pen, attracting the attention of a couple of smaller, almost fin-shaped bipeds. They teetered over to the bars, poking their snouts through the spaces and sniffing Jonah’s hands with more determination than a Labrador. He wiggled a couple of fingers into the gaps of the enclosure, scritching at the tops of their heads. “These little guys are adorable! Look at you teensy dragon babies. Are you good boys? Yes, you are!”

A strange, guttural noise came from the back of the pen, followed by the sound of dry patches of grass being crunched underfoot. Suddenly, puffs of hot, moist air were blowing against Jonah’s head. He looked up and met the face of the babies’ mother. Eyes agog, he quickly scrambled away. She snorted at him once more, then retreated to her resting place in the back of the enclosure, her brood close behind, chattering.

“Maybe don’t pet Good Mother Lizard’s babies next time,” Ray advised, amusement clear in his voice. He offered a hand to his twin, hoisting him from the floor. The grin Jonah wore was ridiculously wide.

“I just petted a real dinosaur,” he laughed. “I interacted with baby Maiasauras!” He shook his head, still giddy with disbelief. “They have wet snouts! And their scales are really soft!” He grabbed the clone by both shoulders and gave him a hard shake. “How can you not be excited about this, Raymond?!”

“I guess it’s because I’m used to it,” Ray replied with a smirk. “It _is_ pretty amazing, though.” He nodded his head toward the far end of the dino run. “C’mon. We can play with some of these guys later. Don’t forget why we’re down here!”

“Oh, right!” Jonah slid his backpack onto the opposite shoulder and again followed his twin through the maze of dinosaur enclosures.

The pair came upon a row of empty pens, which was where they finally stopped. A brief discussion was held regarding who would be throwing the Yarn Bombs and who would be catching them or rather, who would end up wearing them, then the two parted ways, each one heading to the opposite end of the empty run.

Jonah set his backpack down and retrieved one of the orbs from inside it. It was bright orange with a white stripe around the middle; a grenade pin was situated inside a small knob on top. He steadied it in his hand much like a knuckleball and took his best shot at a pitcher’s stance. “You ready, Panda?”

Ray’s voice echoed from the other end of the path. “BRING IT!”

“Fire in the hole!” With that, Jonah pulled the pin and threw the bomb as hard as he could. It sailed through the air, spinning flawlessly, until it exploded midway through launch. A tacky knot of granny squares plopped onto the floor. “Well, nuts.”

“Either you need to work on your throw or I’m too far away,” Ray offered. “We know it works, though!”

“You wanna move up, like ten paces maybe?”

“Regular paces or Heston paces?”

“Regular.”

They each moved forward, keeping their steps as close as they could to heel-to-toe, then tried again. This time, it was Ray’s turn to lob one of those things.

“Ready, Sunshine?”

Jonah spraddled his legs, and held his hands out like a baseball catcher. Ray rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Your stance is awful!”

“I know!”

“I should aim for your stomach!”

“DO IT!”

“Fire in the hole!” Ray’s delivery of the payload was as awkward as Jonah’s, but more entertaining since he managed to spin himself around like an amateur shot-put thrower. He launched the bomb and it careened toward Jonah, almost assuredly on a collision course with his head. About a foot from his face, it exploded, throwing bits of bright pink fluff against his glasses as a cardigan appeared. “Oops, sorry about that.”

Jonah pulled his specs from his face and ran them over his thigh very quickly, leaving a trail of pink fuzz on his jumpsuit. “Nah, it’s okay. That was decidedly much better than the first attempt! I think we’ve got the distance nearly calibrated, at least for us.”

“Keep in mind, we suck at throwing,” Ray playfully snapped.

“Then the general public should have no problem,” Jonah retorted with a firm nod. “You wanna try one more? Let’s see if I can actually make contact with you this time.”

Ray threw his hand against his helmet in a loose salute. “Whatever you say, Boss!”

The twins resumed their positions at either end of the run and prepped for another test. It was Jonah's turn to throw a Yarn Bomb again. Even if their hits weren't quite landing, it was reassuring to know that their theories really did work in practice. The experiment was a success!

However, no one was leaving before they ended up in some kind of tacky knitwear.

Jonah cracked his knuckles and pulled another bomb from his backpack. He steadied himself and got a bead on Ray's position. His goal was to land something on the femur antennae on the clone's helmet. He gritted his teeth and pulled his arm back...

And stopped short of pulling the pin at the sound of a low-pitched grunt echoing through the empty run.  
  
“What's the hold-up, Sunshine?”

Jonah threw his hand up and Ray shushed. The noise came again, this time louder and several times in a row. “What is that?”

Ray grabbed his bag and hurriedly made his way to Jonah. He lifted his helmet up and leaned toward the noise. His eyes widened. “That sounds like it's awful close, but the pens are empty on this end.”

“OOUURF OOUURF OOUURF”

The floor of Moon 14's dinosaur habitat was polished concrete, complete with drainage grates every so many feet. While it was hard to distinguish between Doc Martens and Bonehead uniform boots against the concrete, it was not hard to pick out what sounded like bare feet hitting it. They were getting closer, as was that weird grunt.

Ray clasped onto Jonah's arm. “We better get out of here.”

“Everything's in its pen, right?” His gaze darted between Ray and whatever was closing in on them. “You said it was fine...”

“It was supposed to be,” the clone stammered. He led Jonah between a section of empty enclosures, both of them holding their breath. “We'll make our way back to the front and get out of here. We can let Gurney and Grant know one of their things is loose.”

“OOUURF OOUURF OOUURF”

A tall, slender creature rounded the corner, long,muscular legs making high steps. It paused when it came across the pink cardigan and gave it a good sniff before nudging it with its snout. It honked out another strange call, sniffing the air as it fluttered its colorful feathers.

Ray flattened himself against the side of one of the enclosures. “That's a struthiomimus. That's a new one.” Jonah peered around the corner and Ray threw his arm across his chest to pull him back. “They shouldn't attack unless provoked, so if we're quiet, it oughta go away.”

The twins kept their breathing as shallow as they could, waiting for the beast to wander in the opposite direction. It never happened. The darn thing kept picking at the knitted pieces of clothing in the floor and making that same noise.

At last, it sounded like the struthiomimus was moving on. Its footsteps got quieter as it got further away from Jonah and his clone.  
  
“Finally,” Jonah sighed. He nearly fell out of his hiding place, with Ray right behind him. “Let's get out of here.”

From seemingly nowhere, the ostrich-like creature made a much louder, different call and sped toward the two interlopers. They had no choice but to run. For the first time in their lives, neither Jonah's legs nor Ray's provided them much of an advantage, especially not against that beast.

They rounded one section of enclosures, sliding across the slick parts of the floor. This was an instance where the water drainage system wasn't doing anyone any favors, least of all for those of the human or human-facsimile persuasion.

The boys unfortunately repeated their path and while Ray managed to step around the mess of granny squares in the floor, Jonah had no idea it was there. His glasses had slipped down his nose, leaving him with limited vision. His boot hit the synthetic fibers and he took a hard fall onto the concrete.

The mimus loomed over him, squonking angrily. At the end of each wing, it was equipped with three extraordinarily long claws and it was prepared to use them. It took a swing at Jonah and he rolled out of the way, just barely dodging a slashing to the face. Between the random yarn and the slick floors, he struggled to get back onto his feet. Ray wasted no time in hoisting him up, as if he weighed nothing. Jonah had only just gotten his bearings again when the beast dragged its claws across his back. The pain was so sudden and so intense, the Gizmocrat nearly blacked out. It was akin to being stabbed with a thousand needles. As Ray steadied him once more, Jonah noticed his back felt warm and wet. He didn't want to think about what that meant.

“The new one's loose!” a gruff voice cried. “Gurney! Get over here!” A Bonehead appeared out of nowhere, equipped with a lasso and a control pole.

Another Bonehead followed, carrying a rifle. “Get hold of it, Grant!” she yelled.

If nothing else, the beast was persistent. Best guess was that it recognized the twins as a threat, Jonah moreso thanks to his bright yellow jumpsuit, which was now quickly turning red down the back. Ray did his best to hold onto him, practically dragging him alongside himself, as Jonah was wearing out thanks to blood loss. For a moment, the mimus was distracted by the Bonehead wranglers, but sighted Ray moving out of the corner of its eye. It took a swipe at him, missing his back, but it still managed to slice into the back of both his legs. No matter. Ray kept going, determined to get Jonah Prime to safety.

“I don't know what she's mixed this one with, but it's worse than any of the others!” Grant couldn't seem to get a firm grip on the beast's head in any way. It slithered out of every lasso throw and dodged every attempt made with the loop on the control pole. It sniffed the air and continued to track the clone and his twin.

Jonah’s legs had given out and judging by how exhausted Ray looked, his own pain was overriding everything else. The two collapsed against the far wall, huddled against each other. The clone popped off his helmet and slung it half-heartedly at the dinosaur's feet.

“You're not supposed to eat people, you dumb ostrich!” he whimpered.

“Grant, can you get its damn mouth already?” Gurney snarled. Her rifle was raised, ready to fire, but there was no way she could get a clear shot.

“I'm _trying!_ What I wouldn’t give for more actual help down here…”

It was then that Jonah had an epiphany. His own backpack lay on the floor just past the struthiomimus, but Ray still had his with him. He patted his twin's knee and pointed at the bag. “Pass it over.”

“What are you up to?”

“It's for science,” Jonah said weakly and he pulled a Yarn Bomb from the backpack. He fumbled with the key, but successfully removed it and threw the orb as hard as he could toward the beast's head. “Fire in the hole!”

Grant and Gurney both wheeled around and gaped at the twins, until the Yarn Bomb exploded in the mimus's face, somehow muzzling it with a tacky Christmas sweater. Its snout was now bedecked with cheerful wreath patterns, the sleeves flopping loosely on either side.

“Jonah, you're a genius!” Ray cheered. He grabbed a second Yarn Bomb and hurled it at the creature. “Fire in the hole!”

Ray's aim wasn't as good, but he still managed to make contact. The mimus's claws were suddenly secured inside neon green mittens.

While the creature was preoccupied with trying to remove the yarn accoutrements from itself, Grant was finally able to snag it with the pole, while Gurney fired her rifle. Ray and Jonah both winced, fully expecting the worst. Blessedly, it was a tranquilizer dart that was fired and within just a few seconds, the struthiomimus wobbled on its feet and toppled over, its head landing at the twins' feet.

All either of them could do was stare at it.

Jonah started giggling and Ray followed suit. The giggles quickly turned into laughter, which took no time in becoming more manic. The manic laughter devolved into weak cries, then straight into deep sobs, until the two of them were crying hysterically and holding onto each other as tight as possible.

Gurney hurried to check on the pair. Her expression fell when she spotted the mix of red and purple blood streaks on the floor and on their clothes. “Grant, call for help. We've got two for the infirmary.” She sat in the floor with them, holding their hands. “You're going to need more than just a couple of bandages, fellas, but you'll be okay.”

Jonah managed to nod his head a little, though he wasn’t sure what the Bonehead was saying to him. The ringing in his ears increased in volume by the second and everything sounded muffled and bubbly, like his head was underwater. The room went sideways and he caved to the dizziness that overtook him.

 


	10. Prime Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their tangle with a wild thunder lizard, the boys find themselves in recovery. Those scars are going to be something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also like calling this one "Ray Has Had Enough Of This Crap". The gossip is really going to fly...

Feeling slowly returned to Jonah's hands and feet, but it was worst of all in his back. Everything ached and was accompanied by the sensation of being on fire and stabbed repeatedly, all at once. He forced his eyes open and found himself face-down in a strange bed. The room was white with hints of green, as best he could tell, and was that the hum of fluorescent lights? He needed his glasses.

He tried to push himself up to roll onto his back, but the pain was so bad, he winced and fell back into the pillow.

“You'll be sleeping on your stomach for the next few days,” said a soft voice on his opposite side. “At least until the wounds start healing.”

What wounds? He tried to sound it out, but nothing sensible came out of his mouth. “Wha' woon?”

A bright-eyed Bonehead face appeared before his, smiling. She brushed his hair out of his face. “You just keep resting for now, okay?”

No, it wasn't okay. He wasn't sure why his brain wasn't making the connection with his voice, but it was getting more frustrating by the second. “Wha' hap...pen?”

“What, dear?”

“Whaaaat....happen?” That would have to do. Jonah wondered if he had been dosed.

The Bonehead blinked at him oddly, seeming to take in the inquiry at last. “You don't remember?” She made a mark on her clipboard and looked at him, sympathetically.

Jonah's head was in such a fog, he couldn't remember. He had been with Ray, he knew that much and there was...yarn? What else?

He tried to roll onto his back again, succeeding this time. It wasn't worth it. He screamed.

“Honey, no!” The Bonehead girl pulled him up to a sitting position and opened the back of his hospital gown. “If you keep that up, you'll pull these stitches out and make it worse!”

“Stitches?!” Oh, _now_ his mouth decided it could make words again. “Why do I have – OH GOD THE DINOSAURS.”

The memory flooded back and he grabbed at the Bonehead's arms.

“Where's Ray?”

Again, he got that puzzled look from her.

“Where's #882? That's Ray. He was with me and that thing got him, too!”

“I'm okay!”

Jonah's ears perked up and, squinting his eyes, he strained to see the other bed in the room. He recognized that shape, alright. It was shaped like himself. “Panda!”

“Hey, Sunshine! You're awake!” He paused and tsked under his breath. “I hate to say it, but you look like hell.”

“Thanks a lot,” Jonah sneered. “I can't even see your mug. You seen my glasses anywhere?”

The sound of a drawer sliding open could be heard, then the clatter of plastic tapping the side of the nightstand. “Ma'am, could you please give these to my brother over there? He's blind without 'em.”

The Bonehead pressed the specs into Jonah's hands and he sighed deeply, relieved, as he slid them onto his face. “Thank you.” He could _see_ again.

It definitely looked like the two of them had landed in a hospital wing of the Moon base. That really shouldn't have been a shock, considering they had tangled with a loose dinosaur. Ray looked surprisingly upbeat, though he didn't seem to be moving much from the waist down. The bottom half of his bed was elevated and pillows stuck out just under his thighs.

Jonah's problem was much worse, seeing how he couldn't even lean back. He hated sleeping on his stomach. As he sat there, mentally grousing at his predicament, he noted the IV stuck into the back of his left hand, as well as a second one further up his arm. The first one led to a bag of clear liquid, while the second one was purple. He held his arm aloft.

“Um...Nurse? Why am I hooked up to a bag of grape juice?”

Ray held up his own hand. “I got one too, but it's just the medicine. I think they also gave us tetanus shots while we were out.”

“You took a really bad hit from that mimus,” the Bonehead nurse said calmly, “and you lost a lot of blood.” She tapped at the purple bag and studied it a moment. She took down more notes, then set her clipboard aside long enough to carefully arrange some extra pillows around Jonah's back. “We had to scramble to find a donor.”

“Wait, what?” He tried his best to process this concept and his brain refused. “You've got three other humans here, don't you?”

“And none of them were a match,” the nurse answered. “We had to use someone who was not quite 100% human, but close enough that your system would accept the transfusion.”

Jonah's eyes widened and his head slowly turned toward the clone in the other bed. Ray twiddled his fingers in a cheerful wave.

“The blood debt has been repaid,” he laughed.

“Oh dear sweet Lord.” Jonah buried his face in his hands.

The nurse gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “We're not sure if there will be any long-lasting effects, but it was an emergency and since your donor came from your blood in the first place...”

“I'm a walking experiment now,” Jonah groaned.

“You already were,” Ray pointed out. “But now you're at least 20% cooler because of me.” He rearranged his blankets a bit. “Really, though, the fact you're already awake makes me feel better. I didn't mean to almost get you killed.”

“It's not the first time I've nearly died while in space,” Jonah snorted. “I should be used to this.” He nodded at the clone's legs. “How are the stems?”

Ray slowly lifted one foot and gave it a weak wiggle. “They still work. Sure hurts, though. I forgot how many stitches they said I needed, but I definitely won't be going to Moon 12 for a while.” He crossed his arms and grinned at his twin. “You're gonna have some badass scars, that's for sure.”

The Gizmocrat cringed and carefully reached back to try to feel over his injuries. He was greeted by layers of gauze instead. The nurse guided his arms back down.

“We need to keep those wrapped the next couple of days, dear.”

“How bad is it?”

She gave him a frown and very delicately tapped on his back. “You've got three. The worst one is from here to here.” Apparently, the deepest scar from the mimus stretched from just under his right shoulder all the way to the top of his left buttock. “If I've done my job right, you shouldn't scar too badly, but it's still going to show.”

“No tattoos there, Sunshine,” Ray grumbled. “But being able to say you've got scars from a dinosaur fight is more impressive anyway.”

“You've got em, too!”

“Pfft, yeah, but they're six inches below my butt! You can take off your shirt to brag about those. I'm not about to drop my pants.”

“If you were drunk enough – “

“Do NOT even go there, Prime.”

“Nice to see you're both feeling better,” the Bonehead nurse interrupted, voice full of exasperation already. “Don't overdo it, though. You need to rest.” She took a few more notes and made her way to the door, when it suddenly flew open, nearly hitting her.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF ORION'S BELT IS GOING ON HERE?”

The diminutive redhead with the overpowering temper was, of course, Kinga. She stormed in, standing between the two hospital beds, glaring at the twins.

“Heston, is trying to get killed some kind of weird kink of yours?! Is there some sort of ‘rush’ involved?”

“Believe me, Kinga, I can find much better ways to get my kicks,” Jonah sighed.

She neared his bed, shoving the nurse out of the way. “Do you realize what could have happened?”

“Complete evisceration? Death by blood loss? Both are good possibilities. Take your pick,” he replied flatly.

Kinga threw her hands in the air and practically growled. “No, you big goon – I’m talking about my project going under! I’ve already got too much tied up in this experiment to have you ruin it by…by DYING!”

Jonah’s eyebrows snapped together and his mouth dropped open, the shock settling in. “You’re _serious._ ”

“Completely, you dumb ox,” she hissed. “While I’m in no way excited about having your face on a T-shirt, that’s what we’ve got, thanks to ratings feedback. I am _not_ about to eat the money I put into that investment.”

Whatever mix Jonah’s blood was currently, it was boiling just under the surface. Every fiber of his being absolutely screamed in pain and it hurt to even clench his fists, yet he kept his composure as much as his temper would allow while Kinga actively berated him. “I’ve nearly died twice and all you can do is compare me to survey data and dollar signs. Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth?”

The Mad scoffed. “What, are you expecting compassion? Please, you’re a cog in the system. You just happen to be the biggest one I’ve got right now. It’s your responsibility to avoid doing stupid junk that might get you killed!”

“Because you think I’m a cash cow?!”

“What else do you really think you’re good for, Heston?”

It was then that the wheeled part of an IV stand jutted between the two of them, smacking across Kinga’s lapels. Ray held onto it firmly and pushed her away from Jonah’s bed.

“You leave him alone.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, 882?”

“Serving my purpose. I figured it out.” He shoved her again.

“You don’t have a purpose. You’re just a minion.” She eyed him up and down. “And a faulty one at that. You’re lucky that Max saw any good in you because I still don’t.”

Jonah glanced at his twin, who looked just as determined as ever to drive Kinga out of their room, armed with nothing more than a piece of polished aluminum. Ray’s expression never changed.

“Here’s the thing, Your She-vilness,” the clone said, voice firm. “You’re mad at me because I wasn’t what you wanted. It’s by your own design that I’m like this. You made a mistake and you have this notion in your head that making mistakes is impossible for you. You don’t take any accountability at all, you just…mow people over and blame someone else.” He scooted the pillows out from under his legs and slowly made his way off the bed. He winced with every limping half-step. “As of right now? I’m the last Bonehead you bothered to make because you’re having such a hard time accepting the fact that Kinga Forrester _screwed up,_ that you can’t bring yourself to try again. The same thing might happen.”

“You better watch what you say to me, 882.” Kinga took a step back with every one of Ray’s steps forward. He continued to push at her with the IV stand. “I can easily have you decommissioned for insubordination.”

He gave her a wicked smirk. “You can’t. I do too much to keep your research base secure. Not to mention you need me to keep your test subject alive.”

“Ray, I think maybe that’s enough,” Jonah called. “You’re starting to weird me out.”

The clone persisted. “Funny thing I noticed – You haven’t made any more Boneheads, but you did at least try to make another dinosaur. A struthiomimus shouldn’t attack. They’re not predatory, but I guess when you’re perpetually angry at the world, that’s going to leak into your work. You bungled up that clone, too.” He had her cornered at the door.

Kinga narrowed her eyes at him and stomped a boot, furious. She threw the door open and marched through it. She whirled around one last time, pointing an accusatory finger at the clone. “You were a _huge_ mistake.”

“And I’m proud of that fact,” Ray beamed.

The door slowly drew closed and the sound of heavy boots tromping down the hall quickly faded. Ray’s arms began to tremble and he dropped the IV pole, then braced himself against the wall. “My legs are killing me.”

The nurse was quick to help support him to get him back into bed, though he towered over her by at least a foot. She slid the IV stand back into place and rehung his fluids. “You really shouldn’t have done that.” Her face looked grave. “For a number of reasons.”

“Where did that even come from, Ray?” Jonah peered over at him, concerned. “You didn’t sound like yourself at all.”

“You know how sometimes you kinda bottle stuff up just to keep the peace?” The clone leaned back, trying to get comfortable, though it was near impossible with his own pains plaguing him. He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “She went after you and I think I broke.”

“I can take care of myself,” Jonah reasoned kindly. “It isn’t like I’m not used to being insulted and she’s not going to jettison me into space for talking back.”  
  
“She frequently threatens to shut off your oxygen, that’s enough.” Ray’s voice was beginning to waver. “And you deserve better. I wasn’t about to let her run you down like she does everyone else. I’m tired of it.” He wiped at his eyes with the edge of a bedsheet. “She didn’t even ask how you were.”

Jonah found himself getting teary. He heaved a sigh and waved the nurse over. “Can you help me get over there? My knees feel like Jell-O.”  
  
“You need to stay in bed,” she countered.

“There’s a recliner,” Jonah shrugged. “Close enough.”

She relented and helped the other twin hobble his way to the recliner next to the clone’s bed. His landing wasn’t at all easy; he more or less fell into the chair and his injuries smacked right against the back of the recliner. He yelped. The Bonehead nurse hurried to stuff pillows on either side of him for support.

Squinting at her ID badge, Jonah could only find a number. “What’s your name?”

She stood and blinked at him, surprised by the question. “I’m #56.”

“No, your name. What do the other Boneheads call you?”

The nurse passed a quick glance at Ray and he nodded back at her. “It’s okay. He’s kinda like one of us.”

“Susan.”

“Thank you, Susan. You’ve got the patience of a saint.” Jonah offered a warm smile and extended a hand, which she gladly shook. Ray did the same.

“I need to go,” she stammered. “But I’ll be back to check on you two later. Hit the call button when you’re ready to go back to your bed, okay?”

Jonah saluted her. “Duly noted, Nurse Susan.”

“I like her,” Ray said as the door closed behind her. “She’s really nice. Good with a needle and thread too, apparently.”

“Raymond, what’s your purpose?” Jonah’s face was downright somber.

The clone froze, immediately looking guilty.

Jonah pressed on. “What do you think your purpose is? What did you mean by all that?”

“I know why they’ve kept me around,” he whispered. “It’s to make sure you stay alive.”

“Ray, that’s ridiculous.”

“No no, hear me out,” he continued. His voice cracked and he was still wiping tears from his face. “She couldn’t get me right to be another you, but I’m good for replacement parts, right? You’ve got my blood in you now, so why not a heart or a liver or a kidney…”

“That’s not why you’re here.”

“It makes as much sense as anything else!”

“Raymond P. Heston, NO.” Jonah weakly stomped his foot and hissed at the pain it caused him. He ignored it as much as he could and went on. “I’m gonna tell you like my parents always told me – You’re more important and valuable than you give yourself credit for. Whatever your role is in this weird universe, it’s bigger and better than you could possibly realize. It’s definitely better than what Kinga could plan for you.” He snorted. “She’s kinda crap at planning.”

“I know she won’t decommission me, though,” Ray groaned, “not even after all that. Your blood made me and my blood saved your life. We’re stuck with each other.”

“’Stuck’ really doesn’t sound right in that capacity. You should rephrase it.”  
  
“How so?”

“Best friends.”

Ray let go a laugh so hard, it was almost a bark, but it was needed. “Yeah, I like that better.”

“Never let it be said that you’re a coward. You took on the biggest monster on the Moon and survived.”

They shared a look and both ended up a mess of snickers and giggles, peppered with small cries of pain. It hurt to laugh, but it was worth it.

“I have to ask,” Ray said, catching his breath. “If you’ve decided to adopt me into your family, what’s the P stand for?”

Jonah’s mouth trembled as he tried his best to suppress another chuckle. “….Panda.”

Ray slung a pillow at his face.

 


	11. Idle Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital is a boring place when you're in recovery. The twins really need something better to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the events of the previous chapter, we needed a break for some stupid stuff. I also couldn't just leave Ray's comments there with no answer or resolution.

The hospital wing of the Moon base wasn't as large as any on Earth, nor was it fully equipped for human use. It was more or less a triage center for the Skeleton Crew. Not all of their jobs were dangerous, but some of the Boneheads were more prone to accidents than others. It had all of the necessary equipment and support for their treatment; the rumor was that it was attached to the research facility where they were made. It was small, which was a boon for its efficiency, but having its first two human type occupants was proving a challenge.

As far as Boneheads were concerned, the standard treatment for long-term recovery included returning them to a form of stasis in the same type of pods in which they were created. It helped the healing process by keeping them comfortable and stress-free. Boneheads tended to heal fast anyway; this merely boosted the process.

Being fully human, there was no way that Jonah could be shoved into one of those things, and while Ray was made in one, his body wasn’t quite as accepting of the process. His creation had been problematic from the start. Throwing him back into that state would shock his system into failure.

Jonah’s system had accepted the blood transfusion well. Three days had passed and there had been no ill effects so far. Both his and Ray’s injuries seemed to be healing fine, but being confined to their beds had presented the small staff with something they’d never encountered: Bored patients.

Their stack of shared notebooks had only been half-used, which was unusual for either of them. The latest pages were filled with doodles in both and when they got really bored, the boys pelted each other with crumpled up blank pages.

They had been promised they could shower today, but final, official word had not come down yet and they remained tethered to their medications. They could use the bathroom, but actually cleaning up involved removing the IVs.

“Why don’t you guys have TVs in these rooms?” Jonah grumbled. He threw the small pile of paper wads out of his bed. “I’d take some corny game shows over the steady stream of nothing.”

Ray blinked at him, incredulous. “Game shows? What, you watch people play cards and junk like that?”

“Well, you _can_ ,” Jonah shrugged. “There’s one based on trivia, but you have to give your answer like a question. Another one is basically ‘hangman’, but you spin a prize wheel as you try to solve the word puzzle. There’s a whole block of programming back home devoted to a bunch of guys playing poker.”

Ray yawned. “That one sounds really tedious.”

“It is. The other two are more fun. There’s music and flashing lights, plus the contestants are really excited about being there, so it holds your attention much better.” Jonah took another look at the blank space on the wall ahead of him. “You really, _really_ need a TV in here.”

“We’d probably just end up watching you,” Ray said with an amused snort.

“I lived it. I don’t think I could deal with watching myself go through that again.”

Ray pulled a pillow down over his head. “Arrrgh, I’m so _bored_ , I can’t stand it!”

“I’d feel like inventing something if my brain wasn’t sliding out my ears,” Jonah groused, carefully rolling onto his side. He moved just right, or wrong rather, and cringed as he sniffed the air. “Oh woof, it’s past time for a shower. I’ll take this stupid IV out myself if I have to.”

“My face itches.”

“Three-day beard, Pandabro.” Jonah felt over his own scruff, which had grown considerably worse. “Mine’s not looking so great, either.”

The clone dug at his face furiously. “It itches so much and I HATE it.”

Jonah finally flopped onto his stomach. “God, we need something to do. This is killing me.” He stared blankly at his nightstand, then spotted a bright red piece of fabric sticking out from one of the corners of the bottom drawer. He reached toward the drawer and carefully slid it open. Inside, sat his backpack. When the drawer stopped moving, he could hear the clatter of experimental Yarn Bombs knocking against each other inside.

The grin that spread across Jonah’s face was immeasurable.

“Panda! PANDA! Lookie here!” He sat up as best he could, dragging the backpack out of the nightstand and onto the bed.

Ray peered out from under the pillow, which he still held on his head. “What? It’s just your bag, Sunshine, it’s… wait.” He jolted upright. “Jonah, we never finished experimenting.”

“I know, right?” He couldn’t stop smiling.

Immediately, Ray made a grab at his own nightstand’s drawer. Sure enough, there sat his black backpack, its Sanrio patches smiling back at him.

“Did we ever get around to the timer adjustment?” the clone asked, pulling one of the little orbs out of his bag.

“Nah,” Jonah replied. He twisted the top of one of the bombs and yanked the pin. “But there’s no time like the present to give it a shot!” He threw the thing right into Ray’s bed, landing it between his ankles. Ray had barely enough time to register what had happened before it exploded. As the colorful dust cleared, he realized he was suddenly outfitted with striped knee socks – Blue, purple, and black stripes, to be exact.

“Huh,” came the twin’s response. “Custom fit. Though I guess we saw that on the mimus, too, right?”

“You gave it _mittens_ ,” Jonah laughed. He beamed from his hospital bed. “I’d say that’s a successful test you’re wearing.”

Ray wiggled his toes inside his new socks. “Yeah, and it’s a nice look, too. Maybe you should try one.” He gave a twist to the top of his own Yarn Bomb and launched it at Jonah. It hit him square in the head and went off.

Jonah found himself wearing a stocking cap in bright yellow, complete with the Gizmonic checkerboard pattern around the middle. “ _Nice_.”

“Does it hurt?” Ray asked curiously.

“Not at all,” Jonah replied, rolling his shoulders. “It’s surprising, but there’s no pain. How about with you?”

Ray shook his head. “Nope. Not a thing. Just fluffy, soft socks.”

“You keeping them?”

“You bet I am!” Ray grinned at his twin. “What about your hat?”

Jonah pulled the cap down over his ears. “This is the best hat ever. I’m not giving it up.”

The pair of them sat quietly for a few minutes, each one marveling over just how well their invention had worked. Their creation was safe, environmentally sound, comfortable, and frankly, kind of fun.

…Which was why the two inventors ended up tossing brightly colored orbs at each other for the next hour, howling with laughter as each one landed and created something new. Within that time, they both had new hats; Jonah had gained a set of crochet slippers that looked like dinosaur feet; Ray had a shawl made of granny squares; and both nightstands had been covered in striped stockinette work.

Jonah rolled yet another Yarn Bomb back and forth between his palms. “Hey, Ray? I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day.”

“I say a lot, Sunshine,” Ray laughed. “What thing are you thinking about?”

He paused. “Your purpose.”

“Ugh, are we back to that again?” Ray groaned in frustration and yanked his own hat down so far, it covered his entire face. “I told you, I figured it out.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Jonah continued. “And I’ll tell you why.”

“Of course you will,” the clone snarked through the layer of yarn.

Jonah went back to bouncing the orb back and forth between his hands. “If I’m understanding all of this correctly, you were supposed to be a clone of me and that clearly didn’t work out.”

“Yeah.”

“So Max gave you a new job as a Bonehead instead, right?”

“I’m enough of a Bonehead that I qualified.” Ray’s voice was low, in spite of having pulled the hat back out of his face. “I still feel like the odd man out sometimes.”

“Now we’ve had what could more or less be considered a near-death experience,” Jonah went on, “and since you were my blood donor, you’ve got it in your head that you’re some kind of…walking organ bank for me.”

Ray nodded. “Your new guts would be purple, but they’d work the same.”

“And that’s where you are so dead wrong, buddy.” Jonah gave him a pensive glare. “First of all, you’re an independent, intelligent being, capable of rational thought, even though you are way off the rails about this right now.” He turned sideways in his bed, hanging his legs over the edge. “Secondly, I don’t think anyone, Mad scientist or not, would have put that much work and care into you just to use you for parts. That’s like someone cloning Einstein just so they could get his spleen. Besides, we’ve got the technology to clone organs separate from human bodies, so why would they be harvested from another humanoid type being? That’s just cruel.”

Ray shifted, sinking down into his new shawl. “But think about who’s involved, Jonah. It fits.”

“Granted, Kinga’s cruel, but maybe not as much as we want to give her credit for.” Jonah stood from his bed and carefully made his way to the recliner next to Ray. “Think about it. Where are we right now? The closest thing to a hospital you can find on the Moon. If she didn’t have at least _some_ modicum of decency, we’d both be dead.”

“You’re defending her.”

“Only based on the evidence that’s around us right now,” Jonah said firmly. “And only concerning either of our existences here, especially yours. You’re not spare parts and you’re not a mistake.” He slid the recliner back, careful to stay on his side so as not to irritate his injuries. “There was too much care put into you for you to be considered some kind of accident.”

“They had to make sure I didn’t dissolve like poor Dodo.” Ray curled into himself and turned away. “There’s your care.”

“They gave you a job, which you do extremely well, and then you went and made friends with about a dozen different Boneheads, who adopted you right into their family,” Jonah persisted. “You’re running security protocols behind your boss’s back to make sure we’re all safe here, and to top it all off? You’re a genius with a heart as big as the Sun. That’s not by their design or by accident. That’s just _you_.”

Ray simply huddled under his sheets.

“You’re also one of my best friends and as much of an idiot as I am sometimes,” Jonah laughed. He shoved another Yarn Bomb into Ray’s bed, sticking it right against his back. Ray ended up in a purple sweater with a skull motif on the front.

“I hate you so much, but not really,” Ray sighed, exasperated. He held the sweater out from his chest to examine the pattern. Rows of bones were laid in a stripe above and below the giant skull image. He finally rolled his eyes back around to his twin, who was trying and failing to look innocent. “Thanks.”  
  
“What, the sweater?” Jonah eased onto his back, stuffing one of the spare pillows behind him. “It's a good look. You can wear that when we get back to Earth one of these days.”

“Not the sweater, you dingus,” Ray scoffed, “the whole talk. It helps.” His eyes widened and he straightened in his bed. “Wait wait wait – We? What 'we'? 'We' who?”

“We us, obviously. I haven't given up on getting back home and I think you'd be better served going back to Earth with me when I leave. The Institute would love to have you.”

Ray nervously bit his lip. “Not as an experiment, I hope.”

“Oh no no, as a student! With your brain, you'd burn right through those degrees. I was working on my second one before I took a break for the meteor assignment.” He studied Ray's face, unable to fully gauge his reaction. “You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd feel bad if I didn't make the offer.”

His twin didn't move. Instead, he stared at the orb in his hands, fingers tracing the patterns molded into the sides. “All the way back to Earth?”

“Yeah.”

“And they'd let me study? And...and actually do something with all this stuff that's in my head?”

“There's an entire campus full of people like you, Panda. You'd fit right in.” Jonah smiled and smacked at Ray's elbow excitedly. “You could easily end up Dr. Raymond Heston. How about that? We've already got plenty of information between us to write some studies together.”

A grin slowly crept its way onto Ray's face. “Huh. Not a minion.”

“Not a number,” Jonah added.

“If I'm honest with myself, that would be a dream come true.” His cheeks were flushed in pale purple. “I can help you with an escape plan. It won't be fast, but we'll eventually get there.”

“I'm okay playing the long game in this case,” Jonah said with a firm nod. “Neither of us goes to Earth without the other.”

“Deal. Also, you were right about being an idiot.” Ray dropped his Yarn Bomb right into Jonah's lap and it detonated in a flurry of mismatched colors.

Jonah rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “Shorts. You gave me shorts.”

“Crocheted shorts,” Ray said pointedly, waggling his eyebrows.

“Well, this is the certainly warmest my butt's been since they took my jumpsuit.” Jonah slid the recliner upright again and hobbled back toward his bed. He grabbed another Yarn Bomb.

“I thought you might appreciate that.”

“You're a good man, Ray.”

Another round of experimental knits exploded in the room, resulting in more unrestrained laughter, as well as more tacky combinations of yarn. Before either of them realized it, another hour had passed.

“Boys?” Nurse Susan sauntered into the room, her trusty clipboard underneath one arm, and a vase full of flowers cradled against her chest. She held a stack of cards in her opposite hand. “You've got fan mail and...oh my God, what happened in here?”

“Hi, Nurse Susan!” the twins chimed together, almost harmonizing.

Both hospital beds had new multicolored, zig-zag blankets; the recliner was completely covered in flower-shaped hexagons; Jonah sported a scarf that was longer than he was tall; all the medication drip bags on both IV poles were snugly wrapped in granny squares; and at least six of the pillows in the room were covered with new cases in varying shades of purple, blue, and yellow. This was in addition to the hats, socks, sweaters, and other ridiculous fiber items that had already come from the earlier Yarn Bomb fight.

Susan edged toward Ray's nightstand and set down the flowers. “Do I even want to know?”

“It's for science,” the clone said with a smirk.

She tutted and rolled her eyes. “I should've known as much. They warned me about you two.” She held half the stack of cards toward Jonah.

“Who did?” He took the cards, noting all of them sported his name.

“Your friends,” Susan answered. She gave the other handful of cards to Ray. “They're crazy about you two, you know.”

Ray opened one and read it aloud. “ _'Moon 12 misses you, Raygun, so hurry up and get well. Spam'_.”

Jonah followed suit. “ _'So glad you're okay. Can't wait till you're back. Love and hugs, Amanda. P.S. I'm making you a new jumpsuit.'_ Aw man.”

“Oh hey, Sandwich drew a zombie on hers! _'You played with dinosaurs. What did you expect?'_ ” Ray threw a glance at Jonah, who shrugged.

“She's not wrong, Panda.” Jonah pointed at the vase on the nightstand. “Who sent the flowers?”

Susan pulled at the card tied around the vase. “Looks like it's from Moon 14.” She gently tapped at the petals of a couple of the blossoms. “They're not real. I think they're...coffee filters?”

“They _made_ flowers for us. Holy cats.” Ray was stunned.

“And to top it all off,” the nurse cheerfully mused, “I'm here to disconnect you both so you can finally get clean. You'll have to be careful, though. And you're getting new bandages once you're finished.”

The sense of relief was palpable as Susan unfastened the IV connections from both patients. She made notes on her clipboard yet again, then held her arms out to assist Ray out of his bed. “Come on, sweetie. Let's get those legs working again.”

Ray buckled, catching himself on the bed. “Wow, I think I completely forgot how to leg.”

“That's why I'm here,” Susan reassured. “Looks like you're going to need a hand in there.”

Jonah tried to restrain his amusement and failed miserably. His body shook with breathless giggles.

“Pfft, go on and laugh, Sunshine,” Ray sneered. “I'm not embarrassed around pretty ladies.”

“You're not embarrassed around anyone,” Jonah called as the two disappeared into the bathroom.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, I'm putting a pause on this one for an undetermined amount of time. Thanks for reading. :)


	12. Turn and Face the Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are still in the hospital. They're getting better, but there are...complications. (I'm really sorry about that. It'll get better I promise.)

It was funny how much more...comfortable?...the hospital room seemed now that both it and its occupants were bedecked in cozy yarn items. Ray wasn't about to give up his new sweater and socks. Not yet, anyway. Earlier in the night, just before bed, Jonah had opted to at least hang his new scarf on the bed railing, while his glasses rested atop his knitted hat on the night stand.  
  
Nurse Susan reassured them that they were healing beautifully and in only a few more days, they could both go back to their rooms to finish recovering. Jonah would need some more time, but Ray could get back to work much sooner. She mentioned something about restrictions, but Ray couldn't be bothered to fully recall it in his sleepy state.  
  
He barely woke for a moment, trying to roll onto his side. He was so tired of keeping his legs in the same position! His knees were stiff and his lower back was starting to ache. He seized the foam pillow stuffed under his thighs and very nearly hurled it across the room. It was when he raised his arm to toss the thing, he noticed Jonah, sitting up in bed. Though, honestly, he looked more hunched.  
  
Ray hit the light over his bed and caught his twin miserably heaving into a metal wastebasket.  
  
"Sunshine, you alright?"  
  
Jonah looked at him through bleary, watery eyes. "Not really." He paused a moment to catch his breath, then succumbed to another wave of nausea.  
  
"You didn't eat anything funny, did you?" Ray tossed his foam pillow onto the foot of his bed, then carefully slid himself to the floor. "We had the same thing, I know, but--"  
  
"It's not the food," Jonah gasped. He rested his head on the edge of the wastebasket. "Something's wrong."  
  
Ray felt his own stomach lunge. This was the sort of thing they'd worried about. It wasn't just the elephant in the room; it was a mammoth. The clone hobbled over to his twin, perching himself carefully at the end of the bed. "You were fine, though. For three days!"  
  
Jonah could only offer a shrug before his stomach roiled again and he was bent over the little trash can once more. Out of sheer morbid curiosity, Ray found himself peering at the contents. It was gross, but science wasn't necessarily pretty.  
  
A chill trickled down his spine as, past the half-digested food particles, he spotted a lot of pale purple gunk.  
  
Three days. The math worked out. Looking at his own timeline of existence, it seemed to make an odd kind of sense.  
  
It appeared that Jonah's stomach had decided to give him a break, as he again had his head against the wastebasket's brim. He looked more exhausted than Ray could have imagined for either of them, his eyes still teary and pinkish around the edges.  
  
"How do you feel?" he chanced. "Aside from sick, I mean."  
  
Jonah groaned and tried to lift his head. He promptly failed. "Everything hurts." He held a hand aloft, barely clenched into a fist. "Like this? This is killing me. It feels like my insides are on fire, everything hurts so bad." He winced. "And my skin keeps _crawling_ and I can't stand it!"  
  
It wasn't enough for Ray's heart to sink straight into his gut, but his nerves were fast unraveling. This was all on him. This was his fault. If Jonah died, it was because of him.  
  
Ray hit the call button.  
  
"I was fine," Jonah whimpered. "I was _fine_." He rolled his dark eyes toward his twin, almost pleading. "What's happening to me?"  
  
"It's only a little adjustment sickness." Ray tried to sound calm, but the quiver in his voice was impossible to hide. "I had it, too."  
  
Jonah slowly shook his head. "It's not just the puking." He carefully sat himself upright and pulled the scarf from the bed rail to reveal a section of it had been twisted out of shape. "I knew I was going to be sick, but I couldn't get the rail down fast enough to get to the toilet, so I panicked. Then this happened and it got worse."  
  
The sigh that escaped from Ray was immeasurably upset. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."  
  
"Why are you sorry?"  
  
"If you're dying, it's because of me." He clenched at his hair with both hands. "I was supposed to help you. My job is to protect you, not drive you into an early grave!"

"Pandaface, I hardly think I'm going to die," Jonah said, expressionless. "It feels that way, but so did my hangover after that first Bonehead party." He rubbed the heel of his hand into one of his eyes. "I just want to stop feeling so bad. I think I could handle the upchuck if the rest of me didn't hurt like hell."  
  
The door creaked open and there was Nurse Susan. She caught sight of the misery on Jonah's face and hurried to the bedside. She felt over his forehead and his currently clean-shaven cheeks, then his neck, then grabbed his wrist for a quick pulse read. One look in the wastebasket that was still propped in his lap and she blanched.  
  
"Delayed reaction," she muttered as she hurried back out of the room. "We'll get you taken care of. It'll be okay."  
  
"Delayed...what?" Jonah looked back at the clone. "I know for sure I'm sick. None of this is making a lick of sense right now."  
  
"Sunshine, there might be a problem with my blood," Ray said gravely. "It's having the same effect on you as...well...as being created had on me."  
  
"That shouldn't affect anything, though, right?" He glanced down at his hands, still clinging to the wastebasket. "They used my blood to make you in the first place. Compatibility shouldn't be an issue."  
  
"You forgot the part of me that's not human," Ray sighed. "Even I don't know what percentage of me is or isn't. What's worse is that I don't know what makes up a full-blooded Bonehead. I've tried to dig, but I keep hitting dead ends."  
  
"It's like trying to find your birth parents, but the orphanage records burned down."  
  
Ray tapped his nose. "That."  
  
They sat in silence a moment or two, though poor Jonah's stomach still managed to make some unpleasant noises. It finally made him sick again and he clung to the wastebasket, while Ray patted carefully at his back and pushed his hair out of the way.  
  
"There's not even anything left," Jonah whimpered pathetically. He sniffed, wiping at his face with the back of one hand.

"Oh my God." Ray quickly ran his fingers over the side of the can where Jonah had let go. Perfect, fingertip-shaped indents were pressed into the metal. "This just started tonight?"  
  
Jonah gaped at the bent edges of the trash can. "I guess? I don't know! Maybe I'm still panicking?"  
  
"Let me see your hand," Ray demanded. Jonah was too weak to argue and held his right hand out for inspection. Nothing seemed to be amiss--It still looked the same as ever, no color changes, no new markings...  
  
Ray clasped his hand around Jonah's. "It want you to squeeze my hand as hard as you can."  
  
"What?!" Jonah moved to pull his hand from Ray's grip, but the clone refused to let go. "If I've bent up a bed rail and a trash can, think of what I might do to you in this state!"  
  
"That's what I'm trying to find out!" Ray snapped back. “Go on."  
  
With one severely sour look on his face, Jonah followed orders and held onto Ray's hand as tightly as he possibly could. The only result was that Ray's fingers went a little numb and a couple of his joints popped, which was actually kind of a relief. There was no bone-crunching scream, nor was there any pain. There was only one very tired, very nauseous human with strange new problems, staring at Ray with a questioning look.  
  
"Everything okay?" Jonah asked hesitantly as he drew his hand back.  
  
Ray wiggled his fingers. "Yeah, it's fine. See?"  
  
Jonah was looking more lost by the minute. "Then why?" He gestured at the crumpled bed rail. "How?"  
  
“Maybe it's just the adrenaline rush from everything that's happened,” Ray offered, unsure. “Wait—“ His eyes darted around the room, then centered back on his twin. “Did they take you off your pain meds today?”  
  
Miserable and aching, Jonah stared at the floor. “Yeah...I might have fibbed a little.”

“Jonah.”

“I know.”

“Jonah. J. Heston.”

“I _know_...”

“SUNSHINE.”

He crossed his arms and curled into himself as much as he could, since the wastebasket was still in his lap. “I wanted to be done with this already. So I might have told the other nurse I didn't need it anymore.”

Incredulous, Ray gaped at his twin. “You're not doing yourself any favors that way, Jonah.” He put the trash can back into the floor. “If you're in pain, that's not going to help you heal any faster. It's just making it worse.”

Jonah nodded his head weakly. “I know. Believe me.” A pain surge hit him and he practically crumpled into Ray's lap.

“It'll be okay,” Ray sighed as he pushed Jonah's hair out of his face. “But let them help you, please?”

Another weak nod, this time through tearful eyes. “Ray, I want to go _home_.”

“I know you do, buddy.”

The door to the room flung open and Nurse Susan returned, this time with another nurse behind her. She was shorter and a little rounder and was pulling a different type of IV stand behind her. Ray peered at her name tag: #97.

“Get his arm, Wonsy,” Susan instructed. “Be careful, though. He might have some involuntary muscle spasms right now.”

“Check.”

Susan retrieved a vial and a syringe from her pocket, unwrapping them gingerly. She uncurled Jonah's arm and prepped it for a needle.

“I'm sorry, sweetie, but we have to do this,” she said quietly. “You're having a reaction and we need to study it.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

The other nurse, Wonsy, drew the vial as Jonah gritted his teeth. Ray watched as the small container filled up in her hand.

“That's not red,” he gulped.

Jonah merely whimpered.

“It's not purple either, though,” Wonsy reassured him. “He's going to be fine. Though he really shouldn't try to lie his way out of a hospital stay.”

“I'm right here,” Jonah groused, glaring at her through his bangs.

Wonsy locked eyes with him. “ _You_ are going to be fine.” She sealed the vial and bandaged his arm before taking her leave from the room.

Ray watched as their main Bonehead nurse carefully hooked the new IV and its box attachment into the back of Jonah's hand. She pressed a button on the odd box and it made an airy “whoosh” sound and a liquid shot through the tube leading into Jonah's bloodstream.

“I think I made her mad.” Jonah attempted to lift his head, but Susan pushed him back down.

“She's definitely mad. You _lied_. Not to mention you did a poor job of it,” she scolded. “And because of that, I have to redo your bandages all over again.” She sighed. “All that throwing up made you pop some stitches back here.”

“I'm really sorry.” Jonah's voice was muffled against Ray's lap. “That's no lie, I swear.”

Susan heaved a sigh and got to work pulling Jonah's scars back together with a handful of butterfly adhesives before she hauled out a couple rolls of gauze from her pockets. “Everyone makes mistakes. That one's yours.”

“Yes'm. I prom...promise I won't do that everrr again.”

The other Bonehead raised an eyebrow at the nurse. “He's sounding a little...drunk.”

Susan ticked her head toward the box attached to the IV stand. “Morphine's kicking in.”

Ray's eyes widened in understanding. “Ohhhh...”

“We'll keep an eye on him and taper him off it as the pains ease up,” she explained, still dutifully patching up Jonah's injuries. “It's bad enough that he's got a fever all over.” She finished and retied his hospital gown. “I'm glad you called me. He's a mess right now.”

Ray looked down at his twin's face—Jonah looked like he had completely checked out. His eyes were dilated and gazing into nothing, his breaths were deep and slow. “Sunshine? How's your stomach?”

Jonah very weakly patted at his gut and rolled his eyes back up at Ray. “Is fat.”

“That's not... Oh, Jonah, you are _stewed_ right now, aren't you?” The clone fought to suppress a laugh.

“Nah,” came the slurred reply. “M'fine.”

Nurse Susan gently tugged at his shoulders, pulling him upright. “Come on, let's get you back into bed in the right direction. Your brother's not a pillow.”

“Comfy, though,” Jonah yawned.

Ray gave up and giggled as he helped the nurse situate the sedated human back into a comfortable position in his bed. He couldn't resist going the extra mile and tucking him in.

Susan gave Ray's shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He really will be fine. I don't think he would react so badly if he wasn't already weak from his injuries.”

“You said it was a delayed reaction.” Ray kept studying his twin's face, his hands, anything, trying to find something different about him. “You're thinking the same thing I am.”

“Three days, just like you.”

Ray groaned and his shoulders sank. “I knew it.”

“It's the human element, I think,” Susan added. “I've got notes--”

“Please tear them up.”

“What? I can't. They're research,” she defended.

The clone shook his head, eyes quickly brimming with tears. “Kinga can't find out. She can't know what it's doing to him.”

“Ray, it's our job to study these kinds of things.” She looked up at him, almost pitying. “You're a scientist yourself. You _know_ this.”

He was quiet, reluctantly accepting of Susan's answer. It made sense, but it was also infuriating. As a momentary distraction, he pulled one of the new afghans up from the foot of Jonah's bed and draped it over his shoulders. Jonah stirred slightly, then burrowed his face into the soft yarn.

“I promise you, everything will be fine,” Susan firmly insisted. “We like you both too much to let anything bad happen to you, if that's what you're worried about.”

Ray felt his face go suddenly warm. “Thank you, Nurse Susan. I worry. I can't help it.”

“Well, worry yourself back into bed and try to get some rest?” She patted the opposite hospital bed and retrieved the support pillow for the back of Ray's legs.

He groused and relented, but not before giving Jonah a gentle, halfway hug. Jonah's response was nothing more than an ill-timed yawn, right in Ray's face. He hugged him anyway.

“If anything's wrong, you hit that call button as fast as you can,” Susan instructed. “One of us will be here as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma'am. Goodnight.”

“Night! Get some sleep, okay?”

The lights were out; there was nothing uncomfortable about the beds; Ray even had his own new blanket to snuggle into. He could hear Jonah snoring softly from the other side of the room.

There was no way he could sleep, though. That one yawn told him more than a full page of research from the Moon's research team.

Ray turned his overhead light back on, keeping it dimmed. He adjusted the bed to a sitting position and grabbed one of the notebooks from the shared stash. Propping it onto his raised knees, he began sketching out a human shape, then scribbling down very quick notes of his own.

  * _Effects from transfusion on human (Prime) similar to effects on cloned hybrid (Beta)._

  * _Three-day incubation._

  * _Nausea (presumably from adjustment sickness)._

  * _Pain and fever (cannot fully determine if from injury, transfusion or both)_

  * _Possibly shows signs of advanced strength. Cannot confirm yet, but suspicions are high._

  * _Blood is no longer red, but is not purple._

  * _Inside of mouth (tongue/gums/tonsils) appear to have gone pale purple._




At the very bottom of the page, he added one line that wasn't scientific at all.

“ _I am very worried.”_

 


End file.
